#WE HAD NAMES PICKED OUT FOR BOTH A BOY AND A GIRL
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more ways than one
in which...
luke shows up to fem! reader's college soccer game.
Luke scanned his ticket, walking into the stadium. He had a really big test coming up, but the second Mark, Ethan, and Dylan invited him to watch the girl’s soccer team take on Michigan State, he dropped everything and headed towards the stadium.
“I heard that Y/N girl is really good.” Ethan said, leading the group of boys to their seats.
Mark hummed, “Is that the girl who absolutely destroyed you at beer pong last week?” Mark’s comment caused the boys to laugh, and Ethan to grimace.
“Yeah.”
“Well if her soccer skills are anything like her beer pong skills, I’d say that what you heard is right.” Luke stated, getting a few more jabs at Ethan.
Dylan chirped in, “She’s only a sophomore and she’s captain and she’s leading the whole NCAA in goals. I mean, why do you think her friends called her the ‘sophomore sniper’ when they introduced her at the party?”
Mark laughed at Dylan’s slight rant, “Sounds like someone has a little crush.”
“I do not! I just did my research before coming here.” Dylan retorted. “If anything Luke’s the one with the crush. He told us he had a huge test coming up, but the second we mention girls soccer, he drops everything. A little suspicious, no?”
A warm feeling rose to Luke’s face. Knowing Dylan was right, he just laughed it off and stayed quiet.
Luke had approached you at said party because the second he laid eyes on you the boy was smitten. The two of you talked the whole night, but by the end of it you were both too drunk to remember to exchange numbers. Sure, he could’ve asked around the fraternity, but he wasn’t sure if you remembered your interaction at all. So he saw this game as a perfect opportunity to get your number.
You could hear the laughter approaching close to the field. It was familiar, but you didn’t care enough to turn around as you were on your 47th juggle.
“No way you get 70!” Your teammate, Jules, exclaimed.
You laughed, “Not if you keep talking!”
She chuckled as she watched you closely. Soon enough, you had passed seventy, nearing ninety. You hit 86, wanting to go for more but your coach called out your name, telling you to go meet with the refs to decide which side you wanted. Settling the ball with a groan, Jules grabbed your hand and pulled you to the midfield with a slight tug.
You greeted the refs and the opposing team’s captains with a slight smile. When you went to shake one of the girls’ hands, they both side-eyed each other, looking you and Jules up and down, then refusing your hand.
Furrowing your brows, you let out a small scoff at their attitudes, but let it go as you picked ‘tails’ for the coin flip.
It was heads, and they picked having the right side of the field, meaning you’d have the ball first. As you walked away, heading back to the rest of your team, Jules’s laughter filled your ears.
“Oh my god! The attitude they had?” She laughed.
You gave her a smile, “I know! On our field too.”
The closer you got to the sidelines, your eyes couldn’t help but take a glance at the group of boys who had sat down laughing. The second you could make out their features, a smile grew on your face. Luke was sitting there, along with three other boys which you quickly realized as his hockey teammates. You had been trying to get his number ever since the interaction you had at the party, but never found the right time to. In your head, you promised yourself you’d get it tonight.
You decided to snap out of your thoughts and nudged Jules, “Look. Your boy toy is here.”
Jules’s eyes widened as she followed your eyes, “What the hell are they doing here?” She walked over to the fence to say something you couldn’t quite hear, but figured she called Ethan over as he walked down a few steps to talk to her.
Not caring enough to eavesdrop, you walked towards the rest of your team, letting them know you’d have ball first. They nodded, going back to their warm up. You took a glance up at the scoreboard which had the clock displayed on it. There was around five minutes left, and you wanted to do some long passing.
“Jules!” You called out, bringing her attention back to you.
She said something to Ethan before jogging back towards you. “Sorry. Long passes?”
You nodded, “What was that about?
“They invited us to get some food after the game. You down?”
“Is Luke gonna be there?” You asked.
Jules smirked at your question, “Yeah. Why?”
You left her question unanswered, smiling as you walked away from her with a ball at your feet.
Five minutes went by quickly, as you heard the whistles blowing, telling you that the game was about to start. You jogged towards your team, listening to a quick pep talk before getting ready to hear the starting line up and National Anthem.
You blanked out during the whole process, too focused on the game ahead of you. By the time you knew it, the whistle blew and you passed the ball to one of your teammates.
Knowing exactly what play you were running, the second you saw the ball get to Jules, who was playing at the left wing, you made a diagonal run towards the goal. It was a high cross, but you managed to settle it at your feet before taking a shot from the 20 yard line. You watched as the ball soared towards the top corner of the net, making its way past the keeper’s gloves.
You ran towards Jules, who was waiting for you at the corner flag. The two of you did the handshake you did every single time one of you assisted the other's goal, before hugging each other, then the rest of you teammates.
As you ran back down the field to restart, you couldn’t help but take a glance up at the stands. They were decently packed, but your eyes quickly found the ones you were looking for.
You saw Luke sit back down from his standing position and to no one’s surprise he was looking right at you. You pointed at him with a smile and he quickly returned the action.
While you focused back on the game, Luke was getting teased by his friends.
“Ooo! Lukey’s got game!” Ethan exclaimed, shaking his friend by the shoulders.
Luke laughed, “Shut up.”
~✩~
The game ended an hour or so later, the final score being 4-2. You had scored three of those four goals, earning you a post-game interview with some reporters who had shown up at the game.
They had decided to interview you on the sidelines. This meant you were close enough to be near your team, but also close enough so Luke and the other guys could hear what you were saying.
“Y/N, amazing performance out there tonight! What would you say is the biggest factor in your training that makes you such a valuable player out there?” The interviewer asked, bringing a mic close to your face.
“The conditioning, for sure. I mean, we’re making a lot of long back and forth runs out there and we’re able to do so consistently because of that conditioning.” You answered, smiling slightly to take away the nerves you were feeling.
The interviewer nodded, “You pointed to someone after that first goal. Was it a family member, a friend, or…?”
You let out a soft laugh, “Um, no. It was a good friend of mine that I'm meeting up with after this."
Luke heard your words, as did his friends. His eyes widened at your statement, specifically the part where you said you were hoping to meet up with him.
“Oh shit!” Mark exclaimed, “Bro, she's talking about you!"
He shook his head, “We don’t even know if she’s talking about me. She could’ve been pointing at one of you.” The boys laughed at his statement.
“I’m talking to her best friend, Mark’s taken, and Dylan’s not her type.” Ethan said.
“What’s wrong with me?” Dylan asked jokingly, yet seriously.
Mark shrugged, “She said she was into tall guys. As in, guys over six feet.”
Laughing at Mark’s words, the group of boys made their way down to the field to wait for Jules and hopefully, you.
Jules made her way over the boys, sliding her hand into Ethan’s. “What’s Luke all red for?”
“Y/N mentioned him in her interview just now.” Ethan told her casually.
Her eyes widened, “Seriously?”
Luke quickly shook his head, “We don’t know for sure it was about me.”
Before Jules could question it any more, you were walking over. You gave everyone a quick greeting which they happily returned. As you were all about to make your way towards the exit, you decided now was a better moment than ever.
“Hey Luke? Can I talk to you for a second?” You asked, trying to ignore all the stupid grins on everyone else's faces.
He smiled and turned around, “Yeah.”
The two of you stepped away from the group towards an area on the sidelines where people couldn’t hear you.
“Great game tonight.” He said, trying to dissolve some of the awkwardness that was beginning to build.
You smiled, “Thanks. I appreciate you coming.”
“Yeah, anything for a good friend of mine.” He smirked, quoting your previous words.
You looked away and laughed, now knowing he heard that part of your interview. “Funny. Anyway, I had a really good time talking with you last week and I was hoping to maybe get your number?”
Luke’s face turned slightly red yet again as he smiled and nodded as you pulled out your phone so he could type in his information. “I was hoping you’d ask.”
After he handed you your phone back, the two of you made your way back to your friends.
Jules pulled you back slightly, letting the boys walk ahead, “Looks like you scored in more ways than one, huh?”
“I definitely did.”
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Paper Hearts Part 5
I have no restraint. I have NO restraint. I HAVE NO RESTRAINT!!! So guess who starting writing a SEQUEL to this because she was feeling too sad to write Sweet Home Indiana? Yup! I would apologize, but this story is too cute for words.
We have a mild panic attack about the ending of the chapter from Steve, Eddie's plan, and Steve accepting an offer that made mostly in jest, but also in deep earnest.
Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4
TAG LIST IS CLOSED!!!
But if the people on my list that haven't interacted on my stuff lately don't reply by Sunday slots may open up. So don't despair just yet if you want to be on the list and can't.
****
Steve banged his head on his locker in frustration. Why did he do that? Why did he tell Eddie he was interested in boys, too? Why did he trust the other boy to have his back? Especially when no one else seemed to.
He sighed.
He wrenched open his locker and a little pink heart fluttered to the floor. He frowned as he picked it up.
They weren’t going to hand out the hearts until Valentine’s Day so what was this then?
-Stevie
I like the way you’re kind even when it doesn’t benefit you.
Kas
Steve blinked down at the little heart in confusion. It wasn’t the exactly the same color as the hearts they were going to give out for the holiday. But it was close. He rubbed his thumb over the sender’s name.
Kas.
He knew it wasn’t a real name, having recently poured over the yearbook. So it had to be a reference to something, but what he didn’t know. He stuck it in his jacket pocket and grabbed what he needed for his next class, vowing to worry about it later.
As he sat in his chemistry class waiting for it to start he pulled it out of his pocket to look at it again. The pen was red ink and bold. Steve found himself smiling at the strange little pink heart.
Suddenly it was ripped out of his hand.
His head snapped up to see Tommy H. standing there with it in his hand. “Someone is sending Harrington Valentine’s hearts?”
“Give it back, Tommy,” Steve growled. “It’s none of your business. Not anymore.”
Tommy looked him in the eye before tossing it to the ground and walking off. “Whatever.”
Steve bent over to pick it up.
“Some girl named Kassy or whatever,” Tommy was telling Nicole. “Could be anyone from the younger grades.”
“I suppose so,” she said, tossing her red hair over her shoulder. “But anyone with sense would know he’s the plague now.”
Tina rolled her eyes. “Just because he refuses to suck either of you two off doesn’t mean he’s still not the hottest guy in school.”
Tommy rounded on her and called her a bitch.
She just scoffed and swung back around just as the teacher walked into the room. The tardy bell rang and he called the class to order, effectively squashing all gossip.
Steve ducked his head to hide his smile. He might feel a bit bitter that it was her party that Nancy threw their relationship in his face at, but it wasn’t her fault his girlfriend had gotten so pissed drunk that she lost her ironclad control. And right now he was feeling especially grateful to her for that comment.
He managed to get through his class just from riding that high alone.
His last class was algebra and it really should have been made illegal by now. The way the numbers and letters seemed to float off of the page as he struggled to parse their meaning. He just had to pass one quarter of this shit and he could graduate.
So he put his head down to learn and just suffer through it.
After school, he got to his locker and knelt down to open it.
Again a pink heart fluttered out of it. But this time it had a couple of friends. Steve stuck them in his jacket pocket again and exchanged books. He grabbed his English and history homework so that he could get them done for tomorrow.
He opened the back door of his car and threw in his backpack. He went to open his door when Eddie was suddenly at his side.
He leaned up against the door, preventing Steve from opening it.
“So the king swings for both teams?” he asked, crossing his arms over his chest.
Steve looked around, but they were alone for the most part, so he just shrugged. “Some guys are hot and for some reason I can’t fathom, I trust you not have it all over the school by lunch tomorrow.”
Eddie chuckled and crossed his legs at the ankles. “I wouldn’t do that to ya.”
“Yeah and why would that be?” Steve asked turning around and sticking his hands in his front pockets.
“That would be because it would be hypocritical of me to go spreading around the school someone likes guys,” he said, bumping their shoulders together.
Steve looked at him for a long time before he nodded. “You know by now I don’t put much stock into rumors. I did that once and got my shit rocked for it. Lesson learned, man.”
“I heard about the infamous Byers left hook,” Eddie agreed. “That was some pretty major shit rocking.”
The jock rolled his eyes. “I’m pretty sure he was my first concussion.”
The older boy looked up at the sky as he thought about it and then nodded. “Billy Hargrove would be round two, I’m assuming?”
Steve nodded and then threw his head back. “This year has gone from bad to worse and I’m barely keeping my head above water.”
Eddie hummed his agreement. It really has seemed like Steve couldn’t catch a break. “I feel that. I’m really struggling this year. Last year I didn’t graduate because I so focused on getting out of here, making it with my music that I forgot the promise I made to my mom that I would. Graduate I mean. But this year is just hell.”
“That sucks, Eds,” he agreed.
“You think you’re going to graduate?”
“God, I hope so,” Steve murmured, collapsing against the side of his car. “I just want to get out of this town.”
Eddie chuckled and shook his head. “Where would you even go, man?”
“I’d pick a direction and just drive for as long as I could,” he admitted softly. “I just need to be as far away from this place as I can.”
The metalhead nodded. “If we both graduate we should hop into my van and just run for the coast.”
Steve smiled fondly. “I think I’d like that.”
Eddie pushed himself off the car and then waved Steve goodbye.
The younger boy got into his car with a sigh of relief. Not only did Eddie promise not to out him, he came out to Steve, too. Now it was mutually assured destruction.
Steve smiled and started the car for home. Maybe this year was starting to get a little better.
****
Eddie shoved his hands in his back pockets as he made his way to his van. He didn’t know what possessed him to ask Steve to runaway with him or what possessed Steve to agree but it left a warm fuzzy feeling in his chest.
He hauled himself into the van and sat there for a moment just thinking about it. Of course that meant graduating himself, so he would have to focus on that. His van roared to life and he drove off.
It took him a couple of tries but he finally found the construction paper he needed. He had even found some black construction paper that he was going to use to make little paper bats to tape on the inside of his locker to make it less miserable.
Especially as he was told he couldn’t have his metal band posters up in there. They were too “evil” and “Satanic” and he should be more “Christ like” as if they were epitome of Christian virtue with all the hate they had for anyone not like them.
But Eddie got down to work and started making as many pink hearts as he could. He had thought briefly about adding a couple of red hearts in the mix, but he thought that was a step too far. He didn’t want to get Steve’s hopes up that he had multiple crushes on him if that wasn’t true.
He still planned on giving Steve his one red heart that he had bought. That wasn’t in question. He had already filled it out and returned it to the great big baskets that had been in the main hall.
It simply read:
Stevie,
You make being in this town worth living in,
Love,
Kas
He let out a slow shuddering breath. That was one of the scariest things he had to do since choosing to live with an uncle he had only met twice his entire life over being in the system. He knew his life was infinitely greater being with Uncle Wayne and he hoped this would yield a similar result.
Because he had made a promise and with all signs pointing toward Steve at least being receptive to a date, he had to shoot his shot and hope for the best.
He had made roughly fifty or so of the pink hearts and set about dividing them into four piles. With Jeff, Gareth, and Brian offering to help with the friendship hearts he wanted to make sure everyone got a few of them. Plus it made it easier to come up with things. Because even if they came up with similar ideas, they at least would be phrased slightly different so Steve wouldn’t figure it out.
He also had the idea of using pseudonyms so that it wasn’t all anonymous and initials, though there would some of those too.
But it was time for band practice, so he gathered up his things and the hearts and trotted off to his van, a wave and goodbye to Wayne on his way out.
****
Steve finally opened the other three hearts. Two were anonymous but the third surprisingly was from Tina.
It read it in the tiniest print that was still legible:
Steve,
I know we’re supposed to turn these in or whatever,
But I just wanted to say you’re still A-OK in my book.
-Tina
He blushed. That was nice of her and after she stuck up for him in chemistry, he was feeling a little better about himself.
The other two were just as sweet if a tad unusual in their delivery. The first one said:
Steve,
I’m sorry you lost your crown,
you kept the bullies from being their worst selves.
And the other read:
Steve,
You are a good dude.
Sorry people are shit right now.
Steve shook his head. They were well-tended, he had no doubt but they were odd. Like they were trying to find something nice to say and didn’t know how to word it.
Which, fair.
He knew he had a hard time coming up with complements for the twenty girls he’d picked out for his little project. He had to make sure the message wasn’t creepy or would come across as stalker-y.
He smiled down at the messages. He pulled out a little notebook that he had used to collect all the little things that the kids had given him over the past couple years and put the hearts on their own little page. He carefully put the book back, hidden between two textbooks from his freshman year.
“Steven!” his mom called. “We’re home!”
“Coming, Mom!” he cried, hurrying down the stairs.
****
Tag List: Closed
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I’M SO SICK OF CRYING OVER THIS
#i was just so ready to be a mom#and i wanted to be a young mom#and i loved nick so much#and he wanted to have babies with me like he wanted me to be the mother of his children#he wanted to give his parents grand children#WE HAD NAMES PICKED OUT FOR BOTH A BOY AND A GIRL#everything was all planned#he took everything i wanted away from me
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❝ 𝐋𝐎𝐖𝐄𝐑 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐆𝐔𝐀𝐑𝐃 ❞
❝ EVERYONE WANTS SATORU GOJO, SO WHY ARE YOU THE ONE STUCK GUARDING HIM ? ❞
✧ pairing: rich boy! gojo x bodyguard! reader
✧ summary: after the gojo family receives threats to their lives, you're hired to protect the heir to the company, satoru gojo - you just didn't realize how charming the rich heir would be - and just how hard it would be to resist his advances.
✧ warnings: 18+, nsfw, smut, fluff, reader is around the same age as gojo (both in their 20s but age is vague), virgin! gojo, switch! gojo, oral (f + m), handjob (m), dry humping, fingering (f! receiving), sex (p in v), depictions of violence, mentions of yakuza, dirty business dealings, gojo's made up dad and suguru make an appearance
✧ wc: 15,311 (i don't know what to say at this point)
✧ for my 2k celebration event: item 1 has been sold to @forest-hashira and two anons!
“So, is this your first time?”
Satoru Gojo would be the end of you — one way or another.
One way would be you sacrificing your life to protect him — fairly run of the mill when it came to guarding someone, the risk of putting your life on the line, though the chance of death usually was fairly slim. You had only come close — twice.
You didn’t care to make it a third.
The other, increasingly more likely, way was that you would lose your mind to his incessant yammering before you even had a chance to neutralize any threat to his life.
You nearly spit out your drink at the question, wiping your mouth with a napkin, before managin to choke it down, “Excuse me?”
And his lips annoyingly curl, “Your first time guarding someone,”
The heir seemed fairly nonchalant, even after his father had sat the both of you down in a room filled with more security agents than the prime minister of Japan himself had, and had lectured him about the importance of staying with you the entire time and to respect your authority — well one out of two wasn’t bad. He’s eating a piece of cake instead of a meal, his fork digging into the back of the cake again and again, toying with his food as he did with you, “I mean, you seem fairly young, but old enough to be entrusted with my safety,”
“Well, since you insisted on going to school, your father needed someone unassuming who looked around your age,” you lean against your hand, your other drumming against the table, as your eyes scanned the area — table of frat boys, group of girls sneaking glances at Gojo, various other students, no real threats — unless you counted the girls’ death daggers towards you, “someone who wouldn’t look out of place with you, raise any suspicions, but who could still protect you,”
His lips curl, as your eyes find their way back to the young heir, “So basically, you had to look like my girlfriend — shouldn’t I hold your hand? Sell the act? All in the name of my safety,”
You jerk your head towards his group of admirers, “I think what we’re doing now is plenty — unless you’d like your guard to get mauled by a bunch of hormonal college girls,”
His eyes slid to his adoring fans, as he pities them with a wave, erupting squeals from them, “I think you could take them,”
“How flattering,” you reply drily, picking at the food in front of you, “now finish your lunch so we can get to our next class on time,”
“Are you still upset that we were late this morning?”
“No, I’m upset that we missed half the class and I had to take the fall for it,” the heir had oh so kindly told the professor that you had made them run late (even though he was the one who spent far too long in the bathroom).
And even though you wouldn’t be attending this school for long, you hoped that you wouldn’t have to make yourself look like a fool the entire time you were here — but — your eyes found Gojo’s again — sticking with Satoru Gojo almost made that a guarantee that you would look like a fool — one way or another.
And you were already the fool — for thinking that a college aged boy would have any real food in his refrigerator. Although, Satoru Gojo was a different breed — instead of alcohol and questionable containers of takeout, there was...sweets.
So. Many. Sweets.
Not just cookies and candy — but literally six different kinds of mochi (for some reason?) and almost any pastry you could possibly think of was stocked in the house. And the freezer was more of the same — seven different containers of ice cream and one aged bag of edamame stuck in the back.
“Gojo?” you stare into the open refrigerator, while Gojo lays back on his couch, scrolling on his phone mindlessly.
“Yeah?”
“Do you have any food?”
“What do you mean? The refrigerator is full of food?” and his voice is thick with genuine confusion and you’re almost wondering how this man survived to this age.
Oh yeah, he’s rich.
You sigh, closing the refrigerator doors, and striding over to him, only to snatch his phone out of his hands, “Sweets are not real food — how do you eat like this and function?”
He only shrugs, lips curled into a grin, “I’m just built different,”
“You mean like a person who won’t make it to age fifty?” you toss his phone back at him, “get up,” you grab your sweatshirt hanging by the door and throw his jacket at him. He barely catches it, as he sits up, his face displeased with your sudden need to get him up.
“Where are we going?”
“So,” Gojo says, his hands in his pockets, as you both walk the aisles of the grocery store, “why did I have to come with you?”
“Because I’m going to show you how to actually shop for groceries, so you don’t have a heart attack and die before my stint with you is up,” you grab essentials and basics — oil, rice, cereal, pasta, spices, flour, sugar (although did he really need sugar with the amount he was already consuming?), “you know it would suck if my client died before we eliminated the other threats on his life,” before you add with a smile, “though I think your eating habits are more likely to kill you,”
“You know men really hate sarcastic women,” he bites back, before something catches his eye in the aisle and he places it in the cart, “major turn off,”
“Well, mission accomplished then,” you roll your eyes, as you look back at the cart to see a box of cookies, “you know when I said you were a moron, I was half kidding, but now,” you lift up the box of cookies, “you have a million cookies at home,”
He pouts — why do you feel like a mother refusing their child their candy at checkout? — “Not these ones,” you take the box and put it back on the shelf where it belonged, and he relents.
“Did you eat like this before college?”
He shook his head, “My meals were prepared for me by the chef at my home, I never really had much of a say in what I ate, or anything really,” and you shake your head, “my father wasn’t really the type to let me handle anything on my own — thus the need for a babysitter,”
You nod, “So no one really taught you how to take care of yourself?” and he shakes his head.
“Guess not, but I guess no time like the present to learn,” he examines the box of baking powder you had just placed in the cart, “like what this is,” and you snort, taking the box from him and placing it back in the cart.
“Maybe by the end of this trip, we’ll have you making it past the age of forty,”
He raises an eyebrow, “I thought you said fifty?”
“The cookies made me lose more faith in you,”
The two of you continue to shop, as you help him pick out vegetables, meat, and other necessities for the house. You separate the things for you and for him meticulously, as the two of you head over to the checkout, and he’s placing everything on the conveyor belt together, including your own things, “No wait, those are mine—”
“Consider it payment,” he stops you, as you continue to try to argue, but he’s only blocking you from the conveyor belt with a raised arm, a real smile on his lips, “just let me do this for you,” And you can’t find any words, so your mouth shuts, and you nod — as you watch him speak with the older cashier with his patented charm.
And the cashier stops you right as you’re leaving, whispering, “That’s a good one, don’t let him go, ok?” and you pause, her words sinking in as blood rushes to your cheeks.
“We’re not—”
“I know,” the older woman chuckles far too knowingly, as she hands you the receipt, “but you never know.”
“You coming?” Gojo calls, turning to look back at you, as he pushes the cart of groceries, and you look from the cashier to him, before fleeing with a quick ‘thank you.’
And as you go home, you glance at Gojo, maybe there was more to him than you initially thought.
“This is so boooooring,” Gojo’s whining for, what you assume is, the billionth time, “I hate philosophy, moral arguments? It’s such bullshit,”
“You know philosophy is literally a subject that encompasses everything right?” you tilt your head watching him lay on the floor as the two of you sit at the table, his head right next to you, as you sit cross legged, “there’s no avoiding it in life,”
“Well can’t I avoid it in school at least? Because college feels very different from real life,” and you roll your eyes, flicking him between the eyes.
“Just write your paper, I already finished mine,” and he perks up.
And he slides his laptop over to you, “Then you can write mine,”
“That’s not happening,” and he groans again, “you know if you spent all the time that you whined working on your paper then you’d be done,”
“Were you this much of a buzzkill when you were in college?” Gojo stares at you, “what do you even do for fun?”
“Why is this relevant to you writing your paper?”
“Why is writing my paper relevant to protecting my life?” and you open and close your mouth, “c’mon give me something, anything,”
“How about this — when you finish a page, I’ll answer a question, any question,” you offer, and he grins, as he sits up and begins to type away at his laptop.
You sit back, lying back and using your phone, until about fifteen minutes later when he’s holding his laptop up, showing you that he completed a page, “That fast?” you’re skeptical, and then you grab his laptop, skimming the page, wondering if he was trying to trick you — he wasn’t. It was good, more than good — it was a wonderful discussion of deontological ethics.
“How did you finish this so fast?” you raise an eyebrow, “you complain so much, but you wrote this page far too quickly,”
He shrugs, “I’m good at everything, sweetheart,” and you roll your eyes, “jealous?”
“Totally,” you scoff, before grinning, “so get back to work,” and he gapes at you, before groaning dramatically, lying back on the floor again.
“Ugh, this is too much work,” he whines again, “I don’t know why I had to take this stupid class,” he grumbles.
“Then why did you?” you scroll through your phone, checking for any new alerts or updates from his father or any other member of the security team, “you have a choice in what classes you sign up for, don’t you?”
And for one of the first times, you saw Satoru’s playfulness ebb away, replaced with almost a bitterness — as bitter as his words were usually sweet, “Maybe most college kids do, but I don’t have a choice in most of the things I do, including the classes I pick,”
You tilt your head, “Your father?” And he nods, “did you even choose your major?”
His eyes drift to the ceiling, “Is it a choice when your father tells you you’re either being groomed to run his company when you graduate or he’s not paying for you to go to school at all?”
“No, it isn’t,” you admit, “but it could be worse, he could have stuck you with a glorified babysitter on top of it,”
He cracks a smile, “I don’t know, maybe I have a thing for babysitters,” and you roll your eyes, cracking a smile.
“Get back to work.”
“Fuck,” Satoru muttered, watching the rain come down as he waited outside the university awning of the building he had just finished his class in. You had left him to go to class by himself — you trusted him enough not to get murdered while in class and on the walk back (high praise) — and said you’d likely just meet him back at the apartment. But now, he didn’t know how he’d get home without getting soaked.
He checks his phone for any rideshares nearby, but there were none. And he would rather go drown in the rain than call his father’s driver, and guarantee a lecture about being prepared for “any given situation.”
Shit. Maybe he would just risk walking.
So he did. The rain soaked through his clothes all too quick, the wet fabric clinging to his skin, and the cold leeching the warmth from his body. And he couldn’t help but think if you were with him, you would have remembered to bring an umbrella.
Weird, when did he ever really rely on anyone else?
Yes, his father had maids, cooks, and personal shoppers when he was growing up — but they weren’t people he relied on — he did, but it was expected. It was their job. And yes, he was a job for you too — but…it was different.
Satoru didn’t know when it happened but he had gotten used to your presence in his life. Whether it was at home or in class, you were always there. And it wasn’t as annoying as he thought it would be. It was…nice to have someone there to lean on. But, as he glanced up at the storm clouds, holding a hand above his eyes — rolling dark clouds with no signs of the rain letting up — this would be his reality once the threats were a distant memory.
“Gojo!” He blinks, his eyes snapping forward, and he sees someone coming over the horizon.
It was you — umbrella in hand, as your footsteps echoed with the splashes of water from the rain that collected on the ground. And you found your way to him, holding the umbrella over his head. He stared at you as you grew closer, wondering if you were real. And he wasn’t surprised you found him —
“How did you know?” He asks when you stand, catching your breath, short pants, as your eyes flicker up to his.
“You always forget your umbrella, so I figured you needed one,” you shrugged, “plus I finished my meeting early so I came to get you,” and he only stares at you, “what?”
And he only shakes his head, as he takes the umbrella from your hand, fingers brushing, as he holds it up over the both of you, your shoulders brushing as you begin to walk home. And he found himself wishing for a split second that the threats would never stop.
“Just wondering if it’s in your job description to protect me from colds too,” and you snort, lips curling into the same smile he loved to see.
“With you? It is.”
“A party?”
“Yes, known as a gathering of people where—”
“I don’t need you to define the word,” you grit your teeth, as you watch him pull out shirts from his closet, holding them up, before shrugging, “do you know the kind of danger you could put yourself in by going?”
“I know, the party might go into a frenzy at the sight of me, think of all the students who’d glare at you then,” he grins, as he finally settles on an outfit — charcoal gray shirt and a blue button down, “might have to call another bodyguard to guard you instead, princess,”
“Aren’t you the princess if you’re the one being guarded?” you bite back, and he only laughs, hands in his pockets, “Gojo, you have serious threats that have been levied—”
“Against my father—”
“And you, the heir to your father’s company,” you cut him off, crossing your arms, “are you seriously going to risk our lives because you want to get drunk and fuck around with a bunch of idiots?”
The answer was yes, of course.
And now here you were, stuck babysitting this spoiled heir at a party. You hadn’t really been to any parties — hadn’t bothered to. You had gotten through college at a young age, perks of skipping a few grades, and you ended up in the family business regardless — so you didn’t bother to party much. Not when you had things to accomplish — babysitting a drunk heir wasn’t one of them.
It has started as you expected. Gojo had flitted away from your side the first moment he got, disappearing into the throng of horny and drunk college students. You wove your way through the crowd, careful not to trip over the students making out, dancing, or drinking on nearly any available surface. The smell of beer and cheap cologne wafted through this dorm. And you had almost given up on finding him when you spotted him stuck to the sides of three girls, all of them far too eager to hang off his every word.
You sighed, this was going to be a long night.
“You one of Satoru’s girlfriends?” you glance to your side and see Suguru Geto in person. You had learned all about Satoru Gojo and the people he hung around. Like those three girls — one of them had a long distance boyfriend, the other had a cheating situationship she was trying to make jealous, and the other just wanted to fuck him for the experience. Suguru Geto was one of the only friends of Gojo you had liked from what you had read about him — humble background, on scholarship at the college, but one of the best students here — and a philosophy student of all things, the very subject his best friend hated.
You want to say no, but unfortunately, you have no idea what the idiot has been saying to other people, “Something like that,” you sip at your drink to make the bitter words slide down, “why? Are you?”
A chuckle slips past his lips, as he takes a swig of his drink, “Well I already like you better than the others. You have a sense of humor and seemingly more than two brain cells,”
“Don’t give me too much credit,” you snorted, leaning against a wall, “I did end up here after all,”
“Fair enough, how’d he convince you to come?” And you shake your head — good question. What choice did you really have? You could have let him go alone, but probably not a good look
“I don’t even know honestly, feel like I’ve been dragged here to make sure he doesn’t do something stupid,” you glance at him and the gaggle of girls, “though maybe I already fucking failed at that,”
Geto shrugs, as his gaze slips from Gojo to you, “I mean until he sticks his tongue down one of their throats, I think you’re doing pretty well,”
You laugh, “Good to know,” and you both continue to chat, and unbeknowst to you, while your focus is torn away from Gojo, his attention is fully on you.
If looks could kill, Satoru imagined his crystal eyes were nothing more than daggers ready to strike, as he watches you and Suguru talk.
It was his fucking idea to come to this party, so why were you having more fun than he was?
He swirled his drink miserably — he had barely taken a sip of the beer poured for him — why would he when it tasted like piss? He didn’t understand why people liked to drink — especially when they could eat mochi instead — but now, as he stares at you and Suguru, maybe he was starting to understand.
He can’t hear what either of you are saying over the blaring music and the chatter of students surrounding him, but he can see the smile on your lips and the laugh that left them.
Why the fuck do you look so happy to talk to Suguru?
You seemed so bored when he was with you—and did you just fucking laugh again at something Suguru said?
The crinkle of plastic and the distinct feeling of a spill made his gaze snap to his hand — he just crushed his plastic drink cup. He sighed, as he simply placed it among the other abandoned drink cups on a nearby table, before wiping off his hand with a napkin.
Why did he even care? You were nothing but a nuisance anyway. All you did was follow him around, make him go to class on time, make sure he was safe, care about his well-being—
What the fuck was he thinking?
His eyes couldn’t help but slide back to you as he tried to enjoy the girls' company, their slight touches and soft pouts and sweet words not going unnoticed by him. But that was how it always was. Once people found out he was rich, people wanted to be his friend, they wanted to date him, they wanted him — but not really him, they wanted his money.
First world problems, right?
But you — you hadn’t been like that. You were irritatingly punctual, unfazed by his money, didn’t care in the slightest about his father or who he was — you just wanted to do your job. And he was your job, for the time being.
And now he got to see you smile — your lips perfectly curled in a smile that both he wanted to see all the time and grated on his nerves — but you were smiling at someone else. And Suguru no less.
“C’mon Satoru, you gonna make eyes at your boyfriend all night?” Aiko said, nudging him teasingly, her words far too slurred.
“Help us finish these shots,” Yumiko whines, as she offers him a shot, urging it into his hands.
He’s grimacing, he hates alcohol — he hates how he feels during and after; he hates the disgusting, metallic taste; and if it couldn’t get worse, he’s a lightweight. He stares at the shot.
“It’s just one shot,” Misaki grins, holding up her own, clinking hers to his, “you’re already three shots behind everyone else,”
And he’s about to open his mouth to refuse — make up an excuse of having to wake up early or stomach being unsettled — and that’s when you catch his attention. You were laughing now, a noise far too pretty for his liking, as you shoved Suguru’s chest playfully.
Fuck it.
He downs the shot, the liquid searing down his throat, dragging down until it settles in a burning pool in his stomach. Finally he tears his gaze away as the girls offer him another shot — as you grin at Suguru — this was going to be a long night.
“Hey,” Geto jerks his head, “you might want to deal with that,”
You whip your head around.
“Oh what the—“
Gojo was hanging all over the girls he was with, barely able to stand on his two feet, as he swayed from side to side — his cheeks glowed with the telltale glow that told everyone he had been drinking (if that wasn’t obvious by literally everything else).
Fuck.
You had kept an eye on him. You swore he had only taken two shots of alcohol, how was he this drunk already? You examine and sniff the two shot glasses he used — no peculiar smell or residue — you run through the gamut of tests you could do on hand and conclude two things: 1) Gojo wasn't drugged and 2) he was a lightweight.
But that didn’t stop him from acting like he wasn’t, as girls egged him on to take more shots, and from the way they were eyeing him, their intentions were anything but pure.
You sigh, walking over, slipping past a drunk couple making out, a person passed out and sleeping on the floor, and a cluster of cheering onlookers as a student chugged what you can only assume was a disgusting concoction of alcohol.
Until you finally reached his side.
“I think you’ve had enough, isn’t that right, Satoru?” And he’s blinking at you, before he’s grinning, slurring your name.
“You’re no fun,” and he’s clinging all over you, his hands curled around your waist, “such a buzzkill, don’t even like to have any fun with me,”
“Looks like you had too much fun without me,” you murmur, your arm slinks around the middle of his back, “let’s get you back to your dorm,”
“Hey he’s fine, he’s having fun with us,” Aiko glared at you, a hiccup leaving her lips, “don’t go crashing our good time because he’s not interested in you,”
“Yeah why don’t you go hang out with Geto or whatever? We’ll take good care of him. C’mon Toru, let’s go to my place in Shibuya, I have a huge house there,” Yumiko says, barely coherent, and you raise your eyebrows at the nickname, as she leans in to whisper, alcohol wafting off her breath, as she lifts up her middle finger, “fuck off,”
Honestly the only reason you can understand the gist of what she meant was because of her middle finger. Their other friend is passed out on the couch.
“I don’t think any of you can even care for yourselves,” you scoff, and Satoru is hanging all over you already, mumbling words you can’t make out in your ear, “I’m taking him home, you should take your friend home,”
“Geto, wanna help me out?” And Geto nods, trying to take Gojo other arm, but Gojo pushes him away, instead clinging to you, you stumble a moment before catching both of you, “Gojo—“
“No, wanna go home with just you,” he’s officially whining, and you’re having flashbacks to the summer you spent babysitting, but — you look at the drunk white porcupine clinging to you — somehow this idiot is worse than the kid.
You sigh, “Geto, make sure that girl gets home safe,” you gesture to the one passed out on the couch, “I’m going to deal with this one,”
Geto stares at the two of you, the far too tall Satoru hunched over onto your body, “Can you—“
But you’re already walking away, able to drag Gojo away with relative ease (it’d be far easier if he’d pull his own weight, but at least he was quiet).
That was, until you got outside. And then the whining began again.
“How can you treat me like this?” Gojo’s hands cling to your arm, his face buried in your shoulder, “you shouldn’t ignore the one you’re supposed to protect!” and he’s shaking his head like a petulant child, his bottom lip quivering.
“You’re the one who left my side, not the other way around,” you grumble, as he’s finally beginning to walk by himself but he’s still stuck to your side like an overgrown cactus, “you’re the one who wanted to go to this goddamn party,”
“Yeah but you’re the one who's supposed to protect me,” he pouts, as he stops right in front of his building, “I can’t do your job for you,” and he’s finally standing in front of you, his cheeks and nose still flushed from the alcohol, his hand still clutching at yours, “do you even know how to do your job?”
You grit your teeth. Would punching the person you’re hired to protect be a breach of contract? You rub your temples, it may come to that.
“You’re an idiot,” you jerk your hand away, shaking your head, “my job is to protect you, not to stop you from doing stupid college boy shit,”
He’s crossing his arms, “I could have been in danger — what if that alcohol was poisoned? I feel really sick,” he grips, holding his stomach with pursed lips, and you’re thoroughly unimpressed.
“I looked at it, it wasn’t poisoned,” you raise an eyebrow, before sighing, and shrugging your shoulder bag off your shoulders, rooting around in the pouch, “but if you want, I have something in my bag that will turn your stomach inside out and we’ll be sure to get the poison out,”��
“Nooooo, no! I’m fine,” he’s shaking his head, his voice grows soft, “I just need to get to bed,” he mutters, and you roll your eyes, but grab him by his wrist.
“Come on, we’re going inside,” and it’s a struggle to get to his apartment — more like a luxury penthouse — on the top floor, but somehow you get him inside and shepherd into his bedroom. And he’s shrugging off his button up before pulling off the shirt underneath.
Your gaze snaps away, cheeks burning, your eyes trying to erase the glimpse of his fucking unfairly chiseled physique — complete a surprisingly broad chest and shoulders — how the fuck was that hiding under his clothes? He looked like a stick normally with his clothes on.
“See something you like?” he’s snickering, as you hear the click of his belt and the and sounds of rustling — assuredly stepping out of his jeans.
“No, just not used to clients stripping for me,” you turn your back to him, as you hear the creak of the mattress and the crinkling of his comforter and sheets.
“Am I just a client to you?” his words were still mildly slurred, and you knew he’d be pouting if he had enough brain cells to do so, “you can turn around, I’m under the covers,” he adds with a grumble.
You turn and see him curled up under his blanket and you have to bite back your smile — now he most assuredly looked like one of the kids you used to babysit.
“Well what else am I supposed to see you as, Gojo?” you cross your arms, and he’s muttering under his breath, “what?”
“That’s just it. You don’t even call me by my first name,” he’s brooding, face twisted in a scowl, “I don’t have a lot of people I trust. Most people are just after my money or my looks,” he looks at you, “you’re different. Kinda weird,”
You quirk an eyebrow, “is that a good thing?”
“Well I trust you,” he admits, and you note the tips of his ears barely visible outside the comforter are red — is it still the flush from the alcohol? “I don’t really have many of those,”
And you’re taken aback — you thought you were nothing but a nuisance to this party obsessed prince, but maybe there was more to him than you thought. You toyed the ring on your finger, maybe you had more in common than you thought.
“Thank you, I’m glad you do, because you can, trust me that is,” you say softly, “good night, Satoru.”
And he does sleep after that, as you spend the night keeping watch, half to ensure his safety and the other to make sure he slept on his side in case he threw up
(and he did, twice).
“I need to talk to you,” Suguru Geto barely looked up from his phone when he saw Satoru in front of him, his best friend looking more irritable than usual — his usually bored affect seemed to be on holiday, “Suguru?”
“I heard you the first time, what is it?” and Satoru snatches the phone from Suguru’s hands, “what the fuck—“
“What were you doing last night?” and Suguru tilts his head, before rubbing his temple.
“Give me my fucking phone—“
“What did you talk to her about?” And Suguru stares at him, his brow furrowed, smart mouth ready with a reply about a stint in a spa or a retreat was needed before his lips curl.
“Oh. Her,” and he’s leaning back, a lazy shrug, “this and that,”
“Cut the shit, Suguru, do you like her or not? Did you get her number?” And Satoru is trying to unlock Suguru’s phone, as Suguru watches with a tilt of his head and a wry grin on his lips, “huh? what is it?”
“So you like her, that much is clear,” and he’s crossing his arms, “I assume you didn’t tell her or you wouldn’t have come in swinging and stealing?”
Satoru stares at him, slack jawed and cheeks turning a deep pink that only carnations could rival, “No! She’s just a…friend of the family, and she’s not supposed to be with—“
“She told me she liked you,” his heart catches, mouth falling open, before Suguru’s lips curl, “well, she said that she was one of the many, rather,”
Satoru’s cheeks burn, “It’s not like that, she barely even fucking looks at me. Can you believe that? Me?” and he gestures up and down his body.
“I see your ego is still intact,” Suguru scoffs, shaking his head, before leaning back on his palms, “just tell her how you feel, Satoru, what’s the problem?”
“The problem is I have no idea how she feels and it’s all your fault!” And Suguru raises an eyebrow, “you charmed her and I’m sure you’re the only one she’s thinking about now,” he covers his face, “and after what I said to her last night…” he couldn’t believe he admitted that you were the one of the only ones he trusted. And he called you weird.
He honestly didn’t know what was worse.
“What did you even say?”
“Say to who?” and Satoru turns, finding you standing behind him, arms crossed.
And Satoru cuts Suguru off before he can say a thing, “Not important. What are you doing here—“ you grab him by the wrist, a wave of heat makes his nearly burn red as you begin to drag him away, “what are you—“
“Bye Geto,” you say, waving at the raven haired student, before taking Geto’s phone and tossing it back to him, “I’m taking the idiot—“
“HUH?”
“Good luck. He might need to be fed — he’s in a mood,” and he waves back, same smile on his lips.
“What did you two do, adopt me?” Satoru grumbles as you pull him away, “where the hell are you dragging me? How did you even find me?”
“The post hangover suits you well, we have to get to class, and I placed a tracker on you,” and he’s jerking his hand away, staring at you, “I have to be able to find you, don’t I?”
“Where?”
You tilt your head, “Why would I tell you? Don’t worry about, I’ll remove it after we’re done here,”
You weren’t going to budge on this — and if he argued more, you would take it up with his father. And he would like to avoid that as much as possible. He sticks his hands in his pockets, , “I’m tired, can’t you just go and take notes for me?”
“I thought you’d be more concerned about the threats against your life, instead of sending your bodyguard off to your class for you” you hiss, and he’s pouting again, unable to meet your gaze, “what’s your problem, Satoru?”
And he pauses, the retort on lips dying as his brain looped in an infinite spiral of his name on your lips, “You called me ‘Satoru,’”
You tilt your head, “you told me to last night,” and then you add with a wicked grin, “remember? When you said I was one of the only people you trusted,” you tease, but he’s too busy hearing his name repeat in his head again and again, “Satoru—“
“Better be careful, sweetheart,” his lips curl into that annoyingly charming smile, “keep calling me by my first name and I may fall for you,”
You glare at him, before rolling your eyes, “I see you’re feeling better now,” you walk forward, glancing back at him, “you coming?”
And his wrist tingles still tingle from your touch, his lips quirk into a smile, “Yeah.”
“Why did you become a bodyguard?” Satoru asks you, the movie you had haphazardly chosen still ongoing had all become background noise while you spoke, the illumination from the television screen being the only thing that kept your faces lit in the dark living room (he had insisted on shutting the lights off for an “authentic movie watching experience”).
It had been a few weeks, with no signs of the threat posed ever being eliminated — still new threats were being made, and the Gojo family was still on edge.
But you were on edge for a whole other reason.
His fingers were still shoved in the bag of kettle corn he had been snacking on this entire time, but you could feel his gaze on you, instead of the movie.
“What do you mean?” your eyes slide to him, as your phone’s ringer goes off with a spam email, and you silence it, keeping it on vibrate for emergencies, “and what’s with the sudden question?”
The two of you had settled into your routine — days spent in class, meals shared, grocery shopping, and nights spent either in or out — but again, always together. And, it wasn’t bad — some of it was fun, to the point you almost forgot you were working.
But you were working. Even now, as your legs are thrown up on the couch, crossed underneath you, your knee brushing against his thigh.
He shrugs, “You owe me a question, remember?” and he reminds you of your promise from weeks ago — you had wondered why he had never asked you anything that night, “You never talk about yourself. You implied you have your degree, but not much else. From what I’ve seen of you, you’re intelligent — you could have done anything, why this?” and his lips curl into that mischievous, “unless you just had to guard me when you found out it was me,”
You toss a throw pillow at him, but he catches it with ease, “If only your body was as bulletproof as your body,” and he huffs out a laugh, as you sigh, “why are you interested anyway?”
“Because I am,” you scoff.
“Nice reasoning,” he only grins, a thousand watt even in the dark.
“I thought so,” and he’s holding the pillow to his chest, “c’mon, can you not tell me even one thing about yourself?”
He wasn’t going to let this go was he? And you relent, chewing on your lip, “My family has been in this business for years — my grandfather, my father, my uncles, and my cousins, and I wanted to be one too. To protect people — it’s a lot more work than it seems. It’s quick thinking, critical reasoning, and analytical skills. It’s all I ever wanted to do after watching my dad do it,” you say softly, “but he didn’t think I was capable of it. He thought I was too soft. Too weak. So I decided to prove him wrong,”
“You weak? Has your father met you?” and you huff a laugh, “I’m serious,” his cerulean pools meeting yours with not a ripple of hesitancy in them, “I’ve seen you — I don’t I’ve met anyone this determined, or stubborn,” he adds with a smirk.
“I’m stubborn?” you gape at him, “this coming from the king of stubborn,”
“Only if you’ll be my queen,” and you roll your eyes, but your cheeks burn, as your gaze turns back to the movie — why did your heart catch at his words? “but trust me, I’m very flexible in other aspects,”
“Oh my god, is every other sentence that leaves your mouth a pick-up line?” and he opens his mouth, “don’t say ‘only for you,’ or I will be the only threat you have to worry about,”
“Promise?” you grab another pillow, but he catches your wrist before you can toss it. Your breath catches, and you can’t meet his gaze — you can’t, because you know if you do— but then he whispers your name.
And you can’t help it. You look at him. His eyes are so pretty. They were really the first things that struck you when you met him — that was before he opened his mouth. They looked like they contained multitudes, a far too beautiful ocean tucked behind sunglasses and an irritated scowl. But it wasn’t a secret that Satoru Gojo was attractive — especially not when every other person glared at you for simply being in his presence. But physical attractiveness meant little if a person wasn’t good — because superficiality could only take you so far.
And you knew what it was like to be only judged superficially — and by the way Satoru’s smile didn’t quite reach his eyes when these people chatted him up, he was far too used to it.
And once he did speak, you had written him off as another rich kid — you had seen them a dime a dozen throughout your schooling and from the people your family was protected to hire. But there was something about him — something you couldn’t quite shake, even though every part of you was telling to do so.
“What is it, Satoru?” And his fingers tug you a little closer, gently, his hand loose enough for you to slip away, but you don’t. Why don’t you?
“You don’t always have to have your guard up,” his voice is soft, far too soft for the far too loud heir, “it’s okay to open up,”
You shake your head, but still unable to pull away, “It’s dangerous,” and he laughs, a sound that only warms the thin icy barrier between you both, melting it to nothing.
“Isn’t danger the whole reason we met?” And now his thumb brushes up and down against your wrist, and you wonder if he can feel your pulse roaring just underneath.
You pull away again, shaking your head, as you cross your arms, trying to hold your resolve together, “I can’t do my job if I’m distracted,” and you couldn’t, even now, you weren’t evaluating any risks, you weren’t trying to find the source of the threats — no, you were too busy trying not to inch closer to your client, trying not to look at his lips, trying not to give in to what you wanted.
“And I’m a distraction?” he looks far too pleased, but a thought seems to sour his smirk, “I thought Suguru was more of one,” and his lips are caught in a slight pout.
“Geto was just keeping me company while you entertained those girls hanging on your every word,” you can’t dull the point to your words, and it replaces his pout with a grin.
“So you were jealous,”
“You’re the one who was jealous — you could have killed Suguru with your glare alone,”
“But you didn’t deny it,” and it makes you stop — why didn’t you deny it?
“I can’t do this,” and you’re pulling away, before flicking off the tv and rising from the couch your phone in hand, turning towards the hallway, “it’s late we should go to bed—“ but he’s catching your wrist again, “Gojo—“
“Satoru,” he corrects, and you hated how gentle his fingers felt around your wrist, “how are you supposed to protect me if you’re too busy running away from me?”
“I’m great at multitasking,” and he’s drawing closer to you, his soft footfalls against the carpet, even as you step away from him, “my job is to protect you, we can’t get distracted—“
“I thought you were so good at multitasking,” he chuckles, his fingers find your wrist again, slipping to intertwine with your own, fingers interlaced, and your phone falls from your fingers and onto the couch, “what I said that night when I was drunk was true — I don’t have a lot of people I trust. People don’t understand. They put me on a pedestal or they don’t want me, they want the concept of me — not the reality,”
“I’m not licensed as a therapist you know,” and he’s sighing.
“Do you always have to deflect with humor? Because if we both do that, we’ll never get through a conversation,” and he squeezes your hand, “which I guess I don’t mind if that means you’ll stay,”
“Satoru—“
“We don’t have to do anything now — we don’t have to do anything at all,” and you can feel his words warming your skin, “but don’t you feel something?”
You hesitate, and you can’t look at him, “No, I don’t,”
“You’re not a very good liar — don’t they teach you that in bodyguard academy?”
You snort, holding your head, “Is that where you imagined I got my training done?”
“Well, you don’t exactly like to share, now do you?” he’s stepping forward again, and you can’t bring yourself to run away anymore.
“I shouldn’t,” and you hear the faint sound of his breath hitching, “but I do,”
You don’t need to look at him to hear the smile on his lips, “so maybe it’s a distraction worth having,”
“But—” and he’s gently turning you to face him, his fingers brushing a stray hair from your face, heat blooming with his touch, “Satoru…”
“Why do you keep saying my name when you know I like hearing it?” he’s teasing, but you’re not shying away from his touch, as his fingers cup your chin now, upwards, so you meet his gaze, “maybe we should have had you pretend to be my girlfriend,”
You chuckle, “Oh I could see that going wrong in so many ways,” and he’s leaning even closer, as he’s left the line you’d drawn far behind, marred it with his touch, and is luring you over to stumble over the edge with him.
“Is this one of them?”
“Probably,” and his lips brush against yours — he tastes sweet, the taste of kettle corn lingers, as his fingers cup your cheek now, and find purchase on his shoulder. It’s brief, a soft press that leaves you far too breathless, as if his touch had taken the air from your lungs, only to leave heat behind, “definitely,”
“Is that a good thing or—” and your lips find his this time, a gasp you swallow with a smirk, and he melts into your touch, eager fingers grasping at the front of his shirt. And he responds in kind, his fingers tracing a path, as they tuck a strand of hair behind your ear before his hand settles on the back of your neck.
His touch set every nerve ending on fire — a desperate wildfire that burned a trail across your mind and body — leaving only the crave of his touch behind, that left you wanting more, needing more.
“Was that good?” you murmur, as you take in your handiwork, his pink lips were bitten red by your kisses, his marble skin a lovely flush, and his gaze far too needy. God, it’s far too easy to get lost in him — pull your anchor from the shore and get lost in his gaze and touch, “god I shouldn’t ask that, we shouldn’t be doing this—” but your body refuses to pull away, and you don’t think by the grasp he has on you, that you’d be able to anyway.
But he only gives you the same answer to each of your statements — he kisses you again, slower and more languid this time, as the two of you walk towards the bedroom, your hands reaching for each other and the walls, as you both stumble into his bedroom.
“We don’t—” he says, between kisses, “I didn’t—”
“I didn’t either, but—” you can’t stop touching him, you don’t want to, despite the logical part of you screaming at you to leave his room, it’s overridden by just how much you want him. He’s frustrating, he’s an idiot, he’s sweet, he’s cute, and he’s a little pathetic — but you liked that in a man. Every sense of logic is screaming at you to stop — but it all turns to white noise “but I don’t want to stop.”
He’s grinning as he pulls you into another kiss, his arms wrapping around his waist, pressing you against him, “That addicted already?” lips parting as he kisses down your neck, pulse jumping under his touch.
“You’re just lucky Geto didn’t get to me first,” and he furrows his brow, before his teeth graze against the juncture of your neck and shoulder, drawing a gasp from your lips, “Satoru, what was that for—”
“So everyone knows you’re mine? Including Suguru,” he’s sucking lightly at the mark, soothing his tongue, “and I’ll make sure he knows,”
“Oh, I trust you’ll be subtle,” and he’s guiding you towards his bed, both of you falling onto it, his knee pressing your legs apart, as he hovers over you, his ocean gaze dark as a storm ridden sea.
“Oh you know me, princess,” and his knee presses against your clothed cunt, rubbing against it teasingly, “subtlety is my specialty,”
“Subtle as a truck,” you murmur, and he’s laughing as he kisses you again, making your lips curl, as his hands slide up your sides, squeezing your hips, “Satoru, please,”
“What’s the fun if I don’t get to tease you?” he’s kissing needy kisses to your neck, as his knee doesn’t relent, grinding lightly against your increasingly wet core, slick leeching through the thin material of your shorts, “gotta make sure you want it right?”
“You treat all the people you bring home this well?” and he’s pausing, lips against your neck, “I didn’t mean anything—”
“You’re the first,” you stare up at him, and he’s hesitant for once when usually he’s always barreling forward, “I’ve never brought anyone here,” and he licks his lips, a deeper flush settling over his porcelain skin, “I’ve never actually—”
And you blink, “Really?”
He huffs, “Is it that surprising—”
“I mean a little, from the way everyone acts around you, and the way you act—”
“Well, ‘act’ is the key word, now isn’t it?” he’s licking his lips as he looks down at you, “it’s easy to act when you know what they expect from you — a role to play,”
“Well, the role’s been filled, so how about you just be yourself for me?” you murmur softly, a featherlight touch as you trace the curve of his jaw, and his lips find his smile under your delicate touch, “so I can ask, is this your first time like you asked me?”
And he’s leaning up to kiss you, your hand resting against his chest, his heartbeat galloping under your touch, “And if I said yes?”
You smile, before flipping him onto his back, his gaze wide as he stares up at you, “Then we better make it memorable.”
“Please, I want to—“ his soft pants left his perfect lips, chest heaving as your fingers curled around his erection, far too hard from just what you had done. You’d stripped yourself and him bare — your inhibitions left far behind — as your lips kissed the tip of his aching cock.
“Lemme make you feel good, Satoru,” you murmur, looking up at him with fluttering eyes, your fingers smearing his pre cum along his length, and he’s pressing his head into the pillow, “s’big, can’t wait to feel you inside me,” you murmur, and you slowly pump him, drawing moan after moan from his lips.
“Won’t last long—can’t—“ he’s biting his lip, his hips thrusting into your touch, before your lips suck at his tip again, and he’s gone, cumming hard all over your face and fingers. God, it never felt that good when he touched himself. Your fingers even brushing against him made him want to cum almost instantly, your soft touch and lips were enough to send him over the edge over and over again.
He’s panting, eyes fluttering open to see you licking your lips clean with your tongue, as you meet his gaze with a grin, slowly sucking on each one of your fingers until you’ve cleaned yourself of his cum.
“Princess, fuck,” he’s lying back on the pillow, as your lips slowly kiss back up his body, your tongue dragging between the fluttering muscles of his stomach and chest.
“Already hard again?” You murmur, a smirk on your lips, “so sensitive for me,”
He’s keening at your words, a whimper leaving his lips. His eyes are blown out in pleasure as he meets your gaze, and you kiss him again, sloppy and messy, as his tongue brushes against yours, your clothed pussy grinding against his erection.
“Please,” he can’t help the words leaving his lips, “I need you,”
“Is this the first time you’ve begged for something?” You tease him, smirk on your lips as your thumb teases one of his nipples, pulling a gasp from his lips, “such a good boy,”
He hissed at your praise, “fuck—“
And you’re grinding against him, he’s already embarrassingly hard, blood rushing back to his cock as if it never left, as it drags against the all too wet fabric of your panties. And every small moan that leaves your lips leaving him needing more, his pre cum mixing with your cum that seeps through your panties, and is the second time he comes with you gonna be just grinding against each other on this bed? But he can’t help it if you keep nibbling at his neck like that, your pretty little pants in his ear, the head of his dick catching on your clit — so fucking good.
“Toru, c-close, ngh, g’nna cum—“ and he’s nodding, forcing his eyes open to watch you cum, your chest shaking, as you hover above him, your eyes squeezed shut and lips parted as you said his name.
“S’good,” he’s grunting, “Cum f’me,” and you both do, the slick and stickiness between your bodies almost unbearable, as you both pant, as you rest your head against his shoulder.
The silence sinks in for a moment, as you kiss his cheek, “we can stop here if you want,” your voice is soft, nose brushing against his neck, “don’t want to make you—“
And he’s flipping you onto your back, his fingers finding the waistband of your shorts, your breath hitching as he drags the material down your legs, and tosses it behind him, “I want this, I want you, and I won’t stop saying it until you believe it,” he leans down, breath warming your breasts through your shirt, before his lips suck at your clothed nipples, making you shiver, “you like that, huh?”
“Shut up,” your cheeks burn, but he’s only tugging your shirt over your head and off, his gaze hot as he drags his eyes down your exposed body, and it makes you squirm, “Satoru — please—“
“Now who’s the one doing the begging?” he leans down to suck on your nipple, while his fingers toy with the other between his thumb and forefinger, “I wanna learn what makes you feel good — wanna make you cum under my touch, wanna taste you,” he switches sides, his teeth grazing the skin of your breast, sucking a mark before soothing it with his tongue, “mine,”
“Satoru, fuck, I want—“ and his fingers trace down your body, making you gasp, he’s kissing down your chest and then your stomach, tongue dipping into your bellybutton, “you fucking—“
“Gotta make you feel good don’t I?” he has a shit eating grin on his lips, as he settles between your thighs, and his fingers press against the growing wet patch on your panties, “though it looks like you’re already feeling good,”
You bite back a whimper, “Are you gonna make me feel good or are you gonna keep talking—“ you moan when his thumb bears down on your needy clit, rubbing it through the nearly translucent fabric of your underwear.
“What was that, sweetheart?” And he’s snapping the waistband of your panties against your skin, “couldn’t hear you,”
“You fucker—“ and he’s kissing your clothed cunt through the wet fabric, nose brushing against your clit, making you nearly shake, as he inhales before he moans.
“So sweet, must taste even sweeter,” he murmurs before tugging your underwear down, before you’re kicking it off, making him chuckle, “so eager,” and you scowl up at him, ineffective from the way lips are parted, “you’re so cute,”
“I’m not cute,” you pout, and he’s laughing, a noise you could drown in, just as you do his eyes.
“You’re very cute, and I’ll tell you as many times as it takes you to believe it,” and his lips press soft kisses to your thighs, “my cute bodyguard, you gonna guard my heart as well as you do my body?”
And before you can reply his breath is warming your soaked cunt, his fingers parting your folds apart, your clit was puffy, your sex slick with your mixed juices, “so pretty, this all just for me?” And you hiss as he holds your outer lips apart, “so this is what your pussy looks like, huh?” And your thighs are twitching, trying to shut, but his palms hold you apart, his heated gaze meeting your shy ones, “you’re perfect, don’t hide from me, you’ve done enough of that,” and he kisses your clit, making you moan, “and I won’t have that anymore,”
“Satoru—“ and his tongue drags over the length of your dripping pussy experimentally, tip of his tongue flicking against your clit, fuck, how can he this good at this? Your toes are already curling as he groans, his fingers sliding under your thighs, and tugging you impossibly closer to his face. Your fingers weave into his white locks, “‘ngh—
“Be a good girl and take it,” he grunts against you, slurping your juices, the sounds of his tongue buried in your cunt, fucking you open, dragging across your walls, “taste s’fucking good, how’d I hold out this long without tasting you?” And your eyes flutter open at his groans, seeing him grind down on the sheets, so fucking horny from eating you out, “g’nna just cum from your taste alone, Princess,” you’re so incredibly soft, so soft, despite your walls being so tough, and it makes only eat you eat you from the inside out.
You’re so close, and all you hear is the sounds of his greedy tongue swallowing you whole, and the sound of your heartbeat and short gasps. Your walls flutter around his tongue, your thighs twitching under his touch, hips jolting forward to meet his touch, his tongue so fucking deep that you can’t see straight, “Toru, please, I’m so close—“
And you feel him groan into your pussy, redoubling his efforts before his fingers find your clit and rub at it while he sucks at your cunt. You cum hard, fingernails digging into his scalp, as your back arches as he eagerly eats you out through your orgasm. The wet squelch of your cunt and his tongue slurping against you, drinking every drop you offer him.
And then finally he’s pulling away with a pop, his chin and mouth dripping with your release and his spit, pink tongue darting out to clean up your cum from his face, wiping off the rest as he looked up at you from white lashed half lidded eyes.
And you can’t even speak, still coming down from your high, as he kisses up your body again, your thighs still shaking from your orgasm, your fingers reaching for his cheek, tracing his jaw, before cupping his cheek.
“How the fuck do you know how to do that well?” And he flashes a pretty smile, as he drags his thumb down your lips.
“I said I was a virgin, I didn’t say I didn’t know how to do some things — and as you know, I’m an excellent student,” and you huff, raising an eyebrow, “and I’m naturally good at everything,”
“And always so humble,” he laughs, before he kisses you again, letting you taste yourself on his sweet lips, and you’re rolling him over onto his back, his erection slick with precum, pressing against your sensitive cunt, “let me make you feel good now,” you murmur, his cock twitching against you, “wanna ride you, Toru, need you in me,”
And he’s hissing, as he moves to sit against the headboard, “You keep talking like that princess, I’m g’nna cum before you even—“ and your fingers are reaching between your bodies, and you’re stroking him, smearing his precum over the length of his shaft, making his hips jerk, “fuck—”
You’re so fucking pretty — your teeth baring down on your bottom lip, as you straddle him, hovering still, his aching tip barely brushing against your dripping cunt, “are you sure?” you murmur, eyes meeting his own, and his lips quirk into a smile.
“Never been more sure of anything,” and you sink onto him, thick length parting your folds, and he groans, as you fit him in your pussy, inch by inch, until your hips are flush. And fuck, he’s never felt anything better — pleasure runs up and down his body, as his hands find their way to your hips.
You’re tense at first, your back slightly arched, and when he shifts under you, a moan is ripped from your lips, as you begin to adjust to his size, “s’big, Toru, gonna make it hard for me to last too, feels too good,” you’re mumbling, and he’s holding his hips taut, making sure not to move — or else, he’s sure he’d cum in one stroke, “g’nna move ok?” and he’s nodding desperately, your walls already fluttering around him — slick and warm, better anything he’d ever felt.
You lift up to the tip, before beginning to rock steadily up and down, as he moans, your sweet cunt swallowing him eagerly, as you began to fuck yourself on his cock. Your chest bounces as you ride him, and he can’t resist leaning forward to take a hardened bud in his mouth, your moan making his cock twitch inside you. And he knows why people become addicted to sex — hell, he knew was an addict for it now, but only with you.
“Fuck, never felt anything this good before, sweetheart, feel s’perfect for me,” he’s grunting, the coil in his stomach growing tighter, as your pace grows more and more sloppy. He wasn’t going to last long, and neither were you from the way you were groaning his name again and again. The wet squelch and smacks of your bodies meeting again and again, only making it harder to hold back, and when he looks to see a white ring of your precum pooling around the base of his dick, he’s nearly gone, “fuck, baby, need you to cum with me,”
“It’s okay, pretty boy, cum for me,” he keens at the praise, but he’s stubborn, as you established, and he won’t cum until you do too — and so he ensures it, reaching between your bodies to rub meanly at your clit before meeting your thrusts with his own.
And his tip brushes against that spot that has your vision blurring and toes curling, “Toru, ngh, I’m—” and you’re cumming hard around him, making him spill his warm and thick seed inside your cunt, and he’s groaning you name as he does, your body slowing as you both come down from your highs, your head resting on his shoulder, as your bodies grow limp, resting, his back pressed to the headboard of his bed.
His fingers trace the curve of your back gently, as he turns his head to press soft kisses to your neck, “Am I still just a distraction?” his lips curled into a smile, and you chuckle, burying your face in his shoulder.
“Definitely,” but you lean back to cup his cheek, and look at his pretty face again, “but one worth having.”
You don’t wake from your alarm the next morning.
Instead, you wake to banging on the door. You both jolt awake, and he’s pulling you into his arms, even as you move to get up, he won’t let go, strong arms around your waist. You’re easing his arms off, trying to be gentle, “Toru, let go, and wait here, your father had a panic room installed in your closet, you hear anything, go inside—”
“No, I’m coming with you,” and you shake your head.
“I’m hired to protect you, not the other way around,” you leave his embrace, and face him, his crystal eyes blurred over with worry, “I can handle this,” you reassure him, your fingers intertwining with his, as you press a kiss to his knuckles, “I promise,”
“But—” and you kiss him gently, silencing his protests, before you slip away into the hallway.
You enter the living room, shutting the bedroom door without a sound, stalking through the hall, as you grab a knife and pepper spray from the chest of drawers that was pressed to the wall of the hallway — you had several self defense tools hidden all over the apartment. Your heartbeat thunders in your ear, mouth dry, as you approach the door from the side.
“Who is it?”
“It’s Mr. Gojo, open this door,” and you sigh, relaxing, as you check and unlock the door for him.
Shinsaku Gojo was only a man you were able to meet once before your work for him began. And it was a privilege even to see him then. His schedule was always packed — multiple meetings, multiple clients, and multiple women, all vying for his attention. Even as you spoke with him the first time, his eyes were on his phone the entire time, except when he had warned you, not to let anything distract you from protecting his son.
And you had done just that — and even worse, his son had done the distracting, “Mr—”
“Where’s my son? He hasn’t answered his phone all morning, and neither have you—didn’t you hear from your agency?” his voice is raising, as he dials your number again, and your phone vibrates on the couch. He scoffs, disconnecting the call, as his hard gaze turned back to you, “what if there was a threat? You left your phone—”
“Dad,” Satoru emerges from the room, his hands in the pockets of his sweatpants, “it’s not her fault, she forgot it last night when we were watching a movie,”
“Watching a movie?” he sneers, his cerulean gaze the same as son, but without any of the warmth Satoru had — an icy tundra compared to a warm pool, “she should be watching you, that’s her job—”
“She was watching me — something you never bothered to do,” and his father’s eyes narrow, “she’s shown more concern for me than you ever had — and she only met me a few weeks ago. What’s your excuse for being a pathetic piece of—“
“Satoru,” your fingers brush his shoulder, shaking your head, “sir, I take responsibility for this lapse of judgment. Don’t blame your son,”
Satoru lowers his voice, “it’s not your fault—“
“It is. I disregarded by duty to protect you,” your cheeks burn with shame — “what if i had missed an alert you were in danger? What if I failed to protect you because I wasn’t focused? What if—“
“Nothing happened,” he says softly, and the twitch of his fingers tells you he’s gonna reach for you, but you step forward, shaking your head.
“Nothing did,” and you turn to his father, “I’ll protect Satoru until you can find a suitable replacement for me. But I compromised my mission to protect him. I would like to resign as soon as possible,”
“No! I—“
“Agreed,” his father says, “I’ll have your replacement here in an hour, make sure you’re packed up by then,” and his father leaves without another word.
You brush past him to gather your things, but he’s caught you by the wrist, “Why did you do—“
“Gojo,” and you can’t bear to see the hurt in his eyes, “I can’t let my feelings get in the way of keeping you safe—“
“I don’t care—“ you cut him off.
“I do, I couldn’t stand if something happened to you because of me. What it was an emergency last night and you got hurt because of my own carelessness—“
“It wasn’t careless what happened last night—“
“It was,” you say, walking to your room, “and it won’t happen again.”
You left. You had expected a fight, an argument, a dramatic show of tears — but nothing. Satoru hadn’t even opened his door to watch you leave. The other bodyguard arrived quickly, and you left the penthouse and didn’t look back.
It was for the best.
You had a duty, a role to play, and more than that, you couldn’t let him get hurt because of your inability to compartmentalize. Even so, Satoru’s father was kind enough not to have told your father what happened — or you supposed it was pity in exchange for your quick and easy resignation.
Fuck. Why were you still thinking about this? You rolled over in bed, burying your head under your comforter. A week out, and you still couldn’t stop worrying about Satoru, about his safety, about the hurt on his face, about that night…
You had fucked everything up, and fucked Satoru up in the aftermath.
You poke your head out, and stare at your phone on your bedside table — 7:45 PM, no new messages — you had written out six different messages to him again and again, before deleting them. You wondered how many more you’d write before you finally would rid your mind of him.
Would you ever rid your mind of him?
And that’s when your phone rings. But it’s not flashing Satoru’s number — it’s his father. You scramble for the phone — why was he calling? And you can only think of one reason. You can’t say a single word when you pick up — his father already hissing his first question.
“Where is he?” your words are lodged in your throat, stuck on your heart that had leapt from your chest.
“What?”
“Where’s Satoru? He came to you didn’t he?” he growls, and you hear a slam, assumedly his fist against his desk, “he shook off his new bodyguard, and his phone is off,”
“He hasn’t — I haven’t talked to him since I left—” your mind is running a mile a minute, racking your brain, placing the call on speakerphone, as you text Satoru, where are you? “Where did the bodyguard see him last?”
“He had him at the dorms, he said he was going to see a friend, and then gave him the slip,” his father groans, “you hear anything from him, otherwise—”
“I’ll let you know,” you cut him off at the threats — you had more important things to do. You checked your messages, but your messages hadn’t gone through, and you tried calling him — but it went straight to voicemail. Satoru was upset — he could’ve blocked you or turned off his phone to piss off his father, but you didn’t see him doing that. He was an idiot, but he knew his father would lose his shit.
And then you remembered. The tracker you placed on Satoru — you never took it off. You had sewed it into the insole of his daily shoes (the man had far too many clothes and shoes, but he rarely found the energy to not wear anything besides the shoes he always wore).
You turned it on, biting your lip as you watched the tracker loaded, and his location popped up — and it wasn’t at his apartment.
It was in Shibuya — you typed in the address and he was at a house.
You furrow your brow, who did he know who lived in Shibuya? And then it clicked.
Fuck.
Those girls.
Satoru groaned, fuck, why is his head hurting so badly?
It wasn’t exactly unusual the last few days. He hadn’t been sleeping much since you left, he spent most of his nights watching TV and rotting in his bed. But everything reminded him of you — his bed, his couch, and even the shows he watched (he had continued one of the shows you both had started one late night).
His apartment was a disaster — a mess of empty soda cans, empty wrappers of candy and old takeout containers. But he couldn’t be bothered with it — to clean it up or call someone to clean it up. His bodyguard had taken up residence in your room — or rather the guest room — and hardly emerged, keeping an eye on him through cameras his father had installed around the doors and hallway.
Not that he really needed to, Satoru rarely left his apartment, even had skipped classes for a week — sending an email that he had a very contagious illness and that he’d be happy to attend class if necessary. They sent him materials to work on classwork from home, piled untouched on his kitchen counter, with a possible smudge from the hot fudge he had last night.
He had made progress — instead of staying in bed, he moved onto the couch for his afternoon nap, and he had just fallen asleep when there was a banging on his door. He groaned into the couch pillow he had just gotten comfortable on, before pulling it onto his head, trying to block out the sounds of the knocking.
“Satoru! Open up,” he hears Suguru’s voice through the door, “open the fucking door, I know you’re not sick,”
He pulls himself up, groaning, as he wipes the small amount of drool from his lips, as he meanders to the door, throwing it open.
“You look like shit,” Suguru says, brushing past him to enter.
“No ‘hello, you look like shit?’” He mumbles, still rubbing his eyes, “what are you doing here?”
“I should be asking you that,” he stands, hands in his pockets, as he takes in the mess with a wrinkled nose, “although I see you’ve decided to redecorate,”
“Hilarious,” Satoru replies, lying back on the couch, “did you come here just to hassle me?”
“I’d be lying if I didn’t say that wasn’t part of it, but the other was to see if you’re ready to pick yourself back up after your breakup—“
“It wasn’t a breakup,” Satoru snaps.
“If it wasn’t, then why does it look like you haven’t showered in several days since she left?” Suguru raises an eyebrow, and Satoru scowls.
“I’m sick,” he turns away to face the couch, “I don’t have the energy to shower,”
“But you have the energy to eat about half a dozen mochi doughnuts?” Suguru holds up an empty doughnut box, and Satoru holds a couch pillow to his chest, “Satoru, come on, it isn’t like you to wallow like this,”
“I’m not wallowing—“
“Yeah, yeah, you’re sick, right?” Suguru says sarcastically. Satoru doesn’t need to look at his best friend to know he’s rolling his eyes, “well you don’t seem like you’re sneezing or coughing so go take a shower or something,” Satoru gives a weak fake cough, and he could feel Suguru’s glare, “fine, rot in bed, but you have to get up sometime, just text me when you’re ready to,”
And Satoru hears Suguru’s footsteps recede to the door, swinging shut with a click behind him. He buries his face in the pillow. It wasn’t a break up. How could it be when you didn’t even have a relationship to begin with? You had made that clear enough when you left without another word to him. He didn’t leave his room until he heard the door shut behind you, and he made his way out to watch you leave out the front door of the apartment. And you didn’t even look back. But you weren’t the type to.
He felt like he was always looking back — one way or another.
And even now, as he came to — he was trying to remember what he had done after Suguru left. Someone else had shown up — knocked at his door. Offered to get him out of the house — offered him free alcohol and a distraction.
And he had agreed — if only to forget about you for a moment. Drinking was the only thing that made him forget — if he only could somehow forget how terrible alcohol tasted.
His head spun, so was this a hangover? It’s certainly worse than the one he had before — the last one felt like his brain was fuzzy and nausea clawed at his stomach — this time, it felt more akin to someone taking a blender to both of those organs. And his neck, he stretched it both ways. How had he fallen asleep?
And then he tried to lift up his hand to rub his eyes, and he couldn't, wrist straining against something — his brow furrowed, what was arm caught on — and his eyes fluttered open. It was dark — the only light came from another room, peeking through the crack at the bottom of, what he assumed was, a door. And then as his eyes adjusted to the dark, he looked at his arms.
Ropes. Twisted around both his arms, binding his wrists and forearms to the arms of a chair, and his vision blurs — what? His legs jerk instinctively, but ropes dig into the flesh of his ankles, and he glanced down only to find what he expected.
“You’re awake,” the light flicks on, he lifts his head, blinking away the fog in his head and the burning tears slipping from his eyes, “didn’t realize the drug would knock you out for that long,”
He blinks again and again, light flooding his eyes, until he can see and sees a familiar face — “Misaki?” the light sends a piercing jolt through his head, “or is it Yumiko?”
“Well that’s flattering, you can’t even remember my name?” she sighs, crossing her arms, “well I unfortunately don’t have the same luxury,” and then she adds with a quirk of her lips, “it is Yumiko,” and she steps forward, as his eyes squeeze shut, his head still banging, “sorry what I gave you to knock you out can cause some light sensitivity,”
It’s slowly sinking in, “I don’t know what kind of weird kink you have, but I’m not interested,” and she scoffs, pressing her knuckles to her chin, “where am I?”
“Do you think I’m really going to tell you that?” she raises an eyebrow, “I did send you threats after all, you don’t think I’d be that stupid to tell you where I am,”
He needed to buy time, he needed to find a way to get out of here, and to do that, he needed time, “What? Are you obsessed with me or something? Do you want my body?”
“I’m going to stop your overinflated ego there,” she sighs, leaning against a table that was behind her, “I have a debt to pay and you’re the price,”
“Debt?” he repeats, “is this where you explain your whole plan? And villain speech? Because I usually I could care less, but I’m feeling a little generous with my time, as I’m a little tied up at the moment, so—”
“Do you ever shut up?”
“It’s known to happen on occasion,” she rubs her temples, and then something occurs to him, “how did you get my address? You showed up and invited me,”
She shakes his head, “You think I couldn’t find out your address after sending you threats?” and she sighs, “You know this is why I tried to do this at the first party — get it over with so I wouldn’t have to deal with this. But then you crushed your beer cup, your little girlfriend got in the way, and that idiot Misaki accidentally switched her shot glass with yours, so I couldn’t get you dosed,” she grits her teeth, “and then the rest of the semester, your girlfriend was up your ass the entire time — but she wasn’t your girlfriend was she? She was your bodyguard,” he says nothing, “you don’t need to confirm it for me, I already found her information, her name, her address—”
“What do you want? Money? My father will pay anything to get me back. Tell me who you need to repay and he’ll do it,” and her lips curl.
“So serious now — and so cooperative, maybe I should have kidnapped her too while I was at it,” she shrugs, while she grabs her phone from the table — a burner — “my father will be here to escort you to where you need to go. The yakuza will take it from there,” his blood runs cold, “Don’t cause a fuss and i can promise your girlfriend will stay safe,”
He grits his teeth — he was so stupid. This was exactly the kind of shit you were trying to protect him from. And it was the thing he landed himself in the moment you left. But he didn’t care — because it was better this way, because you were safe this way.
“Wow, you’re pretty cute when you’re all quiet,” and she’s walking over, and he’s flinching as she drags a manicured nail down his cheek, before tilting it up, “it’s just that mouth that’s a problem,” and her thumb brushes down his lips, “don’t bite, or we might have a problem,”
And he doesn’t, but then he smiles back, “you might like it when I bite,” he smirks, “why don’t you come here and find out?” And she raises her eyebrows, leaning closer, and he smashes his forehead into hers, “fuck off,”
She stumbles back, losing her balance, and leaning against the table as she clutches at her forehead. Satoru watches her, trying to wriggle out of his constraints, rope chafing against his skin, red welts rising on his skin, but he only manages to get one hand free before she’s starting to get her bearings, and then he’s trying to free himself, his chair tipping over. And now he’s lying helplessly as she stumbles forward over to him, clutching a knife she grabbed off the table.
“I have to hand you over to the yakuza, but they didn’t say you had to be completely unharmed,” she presses the tip of the knife to his cheek, “maybe we’ll do something to that pretty face of yours,” he grits his teeth, squeezing his eyes shut.
CRACK.
He hears a body slump over, and the clatter of the knife against the cement floor, and his eyes open to find you kneeling beside him. He’s blinking, murmuring your name, “What are you—”
“Well I never did remove that tracker did I?” You’re cutting the ropes on his wrists and ankles with the knife, “and I’m lucky you wear the same damn shoes everyday,”
“Why did you come for me?” he says, as you finally free him his restraints, your fingers gentle as they examine the welts and bruises left on his skin, “you could have just told my father where I was or the police,”
“I could’ve. I saw where you were and I figured it out—“ and your voice wavers, “but all I could think was that I wanted to find you. And I didn’t wanna wait for anyone else. I didn’t want something to happen just because someone else was too slow,” the lump in your throat grows only larger, as you sit, “I couldn’t live with myself if something happened to you,”
“Why?” he asks softly, his fingers brush against your cheek, and he knows why — he does, but he needs to hear it.
“Because I just want…to be the one to protect you,” you admit, tears burning at your eyes, as your thumb traces over his rope burns and bruises, “I wish that I could have,”
“You did a pretty good job, considering I almost was about to get my face cut up,” and he gently wipes your tears away, “imagine what a tragedy that would be,”
You give a watery chuckle, cupping his cheeks, “I’m sorry,” and he opens his mouth, “no i really am. I shouldn’t have slept with you, only to cut and run after. I thought…I thought I was doing you a favor,”
“How?” And you sigh, blinking away your tears.
“I put your life in danger by doing that. I couldn’t do that. I knew the only way you’d let me go is…if I lied to you and said I didn’t care about you,” you bite your bottom lip, “and I’m sorry because I only hurt you more in the end,”
He kisses your lips gently, chastely, his breath warming your lips as he parts from them, “you did,” and you scoff, pushing him playfully, “but as long as you promise not to do it again, I think I can find it in my incredibly generous heart to forgive you,”
You kiss him again, softly, your fingers sliding to the back his neck, into his undercut, “I promise,” and he grins, before leaning back to kiss you again, when a cough behind you catches your attention.
“My father will be getting here shortly you idiots, while you gaze fucking stupidly into each other’s eyes,” she sneers, and you raise an eyebrow.
“You think I’d come here without calling the police? They already have picked up your father — and they should be almost here—“ and the sounds of an ambulance and police sirens come into earshot.
“Good timing,” Satoru mutters, as Yumiko tries and fails to stumble to her feet, and you get up and pin her to the ground. Satoru raises an eyebrow, and watches, as you glance back at him, tilting your head in question, “nothing, it’s just…hot to see you in action,”
You laugh, “Did she hit your head too?” And he shrugs, as he gets onto this feet with shaky legs, “Satoru—“
And he sits next to you, leaning on your shoulder, “just let me rest here for a minute,” he mumbles.
For the first time since you left, Satoru felt like he could finally rest.
And Satoru did rest, he realized as he blinked awake to the ambient sounds of the hospital room, the distinct beep of the heartbeat monitor, the dim light of the moon filtering through the shades, and the distant sounds of people walking through the hall. He hears the sounds of sheets rustling, and his gaze snaps over to his left.
His gaze softens. You were fast asleep beside him, your arms tucked under your head, your breaths were soft, as they were the night you two had spent together. He sat himself up — fingers running through your hair gently. You had fallen asleep before him that night, face buried in the crook of his neck, and your legs entangled with his. And now you slept beside him on a chair, leaning on his bedside.
His fingers carded through your hair again, and you stirred, as he swore under his breath, your eyes fluttered open, “Toru?” you mumbled, still half asleep, and he hummed.
“Sorry, sweetheart, I didn’t mean to wake you,” he sighed softly, “why are you sleeping here? You should have gone home,” you sit up, stretching, as you furrow your brow, eyes scanning him for any sign of an injury or distress.
“I wanted to make sure you were okay — you were unconscious, but no concussion thankfully. I tried to wake you up but you wouldn’t wake,” you sigh, words tumbling out almost faster than you can think of them, “they mostly kept you for observation, but are you feeling okay? Should I get the nurse—“
And he’s pulling you into a hug, arms wrapping around you, as he sighs, burying his face in your neck, “I just want to stay like this for a while,” he murmurs, “I got everything I need right here, got it?” He feels you nod, and he feels the hint of your tears on his skin, but says nothing, only his lips quirk, “you did mean your promise?”
“I did, I won’t leave like that again,” and he’s leaning back, head tilted, and you chuckle, “I mean I won’t leave you at all, how’s that?”
“Good girl,” he murmurs, leaning closer, and his heart squeezes when he hears your breath hitch as he does. His eyes flicker to your lips and back, “can I kiss—“
But you kiss him first, softly, your fingers brushing his cheek, and god, why was it that a single touch from you melted him away to nothing? Whittled his world view to a pin where all he could feel, all he could see, was you.
And then you kiss his cheeks, his chin, his jaw, and then your teeth graze the soft part of his neck, drawing a pretty gasp from his lips, as you suck lightly on his skin.
He’s whispering your name, breath sucked from his lungs as if your teeth had pierced through his throat instead of just his skin, “what was that for?”
And you smile, “so everyone knows you’re mine.”
“You’re changing your major?” Suguru raises his eyebrow, as he lounges on Satoru’s couch, holding his head up with his elbow propped against the top of the couch, “your father must’ve been thrilled about that,”
“He lost his shit, but that geezer can fuck off,” Satoru shrugs, “he threatened to not pay my tuition, but once I threatened to go public with his dealings with the yakuza, he saw it my way,”
Suguru tilts his head, “His what?”
You bring over tea from the kitchen, placing it on the table, “After what Satoru found out from Yumiko and her father, their debt to the yakuza would have been paid off by kidnapping one of Satoru’s father’s close relatives, but I was wondering why was the yakuza so eager to do so?”
“Apparently my old man had the brilliant idea of entertaining the yakuza on some deal he was making,” Satoru explains, leaning back on the couch, as you sit against his legs, “and when he backed out, the yakuza wanted to push it through anyway — and well, thus their blackmail of Yumiko’s father, once they found out his daughter went to school with me.”
“Yeah, turns out her father had gambling debts owed to the yakuza,” you sighed, “she got caught in the crossfire — I almost feel bad,”
“Speak for yourself, she drugged me, tied me to a chair, and held a knife to my face,” Satoru scoffs, sipping his tea that he had you drown in sugar.
“Well you didn’t complain when I did that last night,” you reply, making both Satoru and Suguru choke, and you laughed, squealing when Satoru lifts you into his lap to bury his face into your back.
“You two are officially sickening to be around,” Suguru grimaces, still coughing from choking down his tea, “I think I liked it better when he was wasting away in his apartment,”
“You wasted away after I left?” You turn to look at Satoru, who shoots a glare at Suguru, “sorry Geto, that’s not happening again,” and Satoru softens his gaze, pressing a kiss to your head.
“Alright, that’s it, I’m leaving,” Suguru gets to his feet, as he glances back at you two, “don’t rush to get up, I’ll see myself out,” he rolls his eyes.
“Don’t worry we weren’t going to,” Satoru pulls you closer, and Suguru narrows his eyes, before his lips curl into a grin.
“Just for that, I’m sending your girlfriend a picture of the mess you looked like when she left,” Satoru gapes at him, while you bite back a laugh.
“Suguru!” Satoru calls, but the door’s shut, and you’re starting to giggle. He’s pouting now, “so my girlfriend thinks it's funny to see me in the pathetic state she left me in?”
“Oh your girlfriend finds it very funny, and she might even make it her boyfriend’s contact picture,” you smirk, and he’s biting back a smile, “What?”
“This is just the first time we called each other that,” he mumbles, a slight dusting of pink on his cheeks, “it’s nice,” he admits.
“Well, I am yours, aren’t I?” you smile, and he presses a kiss to your lips, as he would again and again.
“My one and only.”
✧ a/n: so this fic was so freaking long. i'm sorry it took so long to post this - i got a little sidetracked by prof geto haha. but i'm hoping to start on the next one soon :). i think i'll put a poll up on which one i should write next! edit: forgot to tag the people who requested this, its now added in T_T
✧ taglist: @teatreeoilll, @intrxspectiv, @marvel-fanaticz, @ilovemybabes, @lwustyz, @jayathelostdragon, @vampzys, @sleazymac-n-cheesy, @soilmayo, @iwassentfromhell, @lobotomy-kaisen, @gojoallmine, @forest-hashira, @h3artpiecexx, @lailarratx, @gummibat, @hanlay, @ilovewoo9, @nvmlolo, @h6avenly, @eriyvesa, @alexandraioann4, @eclipsephase, @sokkasmoon, @aizzon, @makotome9, @daddytojji, @fluffy-pancakes01, @imjustmememe, @spookyy-gracee, @forest-fruits-jam, @that-goth-bisexual, @hatsunemitskislobotomy, @lookinreality,
#sab [mlist]#satoru gojo x reader#satoru gojo smut#gojo x reader#gojo smut#gojo satoru x reader#gojo satoru smut#satoru gojo x you#gojo x reader smut#satoru gojo fanfiction#jjk x reader#jjk fanfiction#jjk smut#jujutsu kaisen smut#jujutsu kaisen fanfiction#jujutsu kaisen x reader
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matchmaker.
in which max is tired of lando being a single mess, so he plays matchmaker.
lando norris x famous!reader.
fc: sabrina carpenter.
_
liked by landonorris, francisca.cgomes, madisonbeer and 1 738 929 others.
y/n: lil photodump 💭
_
madisonbeer: my goddess!! miss you pookie xx
liked by y/n.
user: QUEEN OMGGBSKSKSL
user: she’s addicted to slaying
user: pls come to brazil!!
user: can’t wait to see you in paris!!
user: she’s so pretty wtf
user: Y/N AND MADISON COLLAB WHEN??
user: emails i can’t send is a masterpiece y/n!!
user: JUST ONE CHANGE IM BEGGING AHKSOSLSL
user: the man who’s going to date her is literally the luckiest man on earth
see more.
_
imessages between max and lando.
max:
mate
i have good news
lando:
what?
i’m scared actually
max:
fuck off
it’s for your own sake
lando:
okay NOW i’m terrified
max:
SHUT IT
you’re going on a blind date tonight
lando:
um
no?
max:
wasn’t a question you idiot
be ready at 9
a car will come pick you up
lando:
DHAT
WHAT
MAX ANWSER
WITH WHO???
I REFUSE
_
_
imessages between max and lando.
lando:
max fewtrell.
did you REALLY sent me on a blind date with Y/N FUCKING L/N??
WITHOUT WARNING ME??
i was SO embarrassing
max:
okay for my defense, i didn’t know
i asked kika to find me someone who could match your vibe and apparently it had to be y/n…
BUT apparently it went well so we good
lando:
mate
i fucking spilled my wine on her expensive looking dress
i tripped over my own feet when i got up to pay the bill
i stuttered when she asked for my NAME
i almost slipped when i tried to open the car door for her
i answered « that’s cool » when she told me that the inspiration for her new album was her past and traumatic relationship
max:
holy shit dude
she’s never calling you again that’s for SURE
well at least we tried
lando:
wait till i catch you and kika
i’ll run you over with my car
BOTH OF YOU TRAITORS
max:
i’m innocent
it’s all kika’s fault
_
_
imessages between max, kika and lando.
kika:
YOU COWARD
SHE THINKS YOU DIDN’T LIKE HER
TEXT HER NOW
max:
why are we yelling
kika:
go on twitter and see for yourself
lando:
WHAT DO YOU MEAN I DIDN’T LIKE HER??
she should be the one to dislike me i literally made a fool out of myself BECAUSE I WASN’T PREPARED TO MEET MY CELEBRITY CRUSH???
kika:
you should be always prepared lando norris
lando:
omg give me a break
what should i do?
max:
her fans hate you lmao
text her maybe?
kika:
I HAVE A BETTER IDEA
invite her for the miami gp!
yes i’m a genius
lando:
do you want me to crash on the wall francisca?
i will 100% fumble the race if i know she’s watching
max:
oh my god
why are you such a pussy?
lando:
fuck YOU
this is all your fault
kika:
if you don’t invite her, i WILL
lando:
FINE
but if i die i’ll haunt your ass forever
kika:
who knows maybe you’ll finally win a race ;)
mister lando NOwins
lando:
wow i didn’t know mister pierre gasly was a race winner already
max:
okay enough you two
_
liked by landonorris, maxfewtrell, francisca.cgomes and 2 628 048 others.
y/n: may not know a lot about formula one, but i know for a fact that you deserved that win. i can’t wait to be with you during your journey, pretty boy <3
_
landonorris: i couldn’t ask for a better partner, pretty girl <3
user: YESSS FINALLY
user: omg they’re together??
user: WTFFFABSKSLMSLS
user: no bc why are they so cute??
user: aww she was so happy for him when he won
user: lmao the cameraman kept zooming in on her when lando won ajsksllz
user: PARENTS
user: CONGRATS LANDO
user: he better treat her right
user: they’re cute ngl
see more.
#f1 fandom#f1 au#f1 fanfic#f1 fic#f1 imagine#formula one#formula 1#lando norris#lando norris x female reader#lando norris x reader#lando norris x you#lando norris x oc#lando norris x y/n#lando x reader#lando norris fluff#ln4 fluff#ln4 imagine#ln4 fic#ln4#f1 instagram au#f1 masterlist#f1 x you#f1 x reader#f1#formula one x y/n#formula one x oc#formula one x you#formula one x reader#lando norris fanfic#lando norris f1
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Alfred gains an unique apprentice after his arm got fractured.
Most of the batfam has been causing a ruckus in the Wayne Manor for the past 4 months that even Alfred was feeling a bit worn out.
To the point that his personal favorite market friends suggest getting a trainee, or a ward to help him out epecially because Alfred isn't getting any younger, no matter how well he took care of his own health.
Helda got herself a ward herself, a sweet little girl, name Ellen who help her keep the lil Duckling candles shop in order especially after her hip surgery went through, and will be taking over for her considering helda had no descendents, but Ellen make her feel young again.
Alfred merely delined, but ended up getting the card still by persistented friends. A card with a purple GrandFather clock symbol and a number on it. He left it in his draw as he was not rude enough to throw away.
Then came the prank war 13 on June 15th in the Wayne Manor that Alfred accidentally ended up being targeted by pure coincidence which ended with him with a fractured arm..
Both Bruce and Alfred was majorly disappointed with how far escalated the prank war went that got immediately stop when the batfam saw Alfred gotten injured during it.
Except now Alfred is stuck for 6-10 weeks without using his right arm until his personal doctor said it ok to take the cast off then have a arm sling..
Alfred was immensely stubborn for 3 days, 3 days of trying to do all his duties.. before he gave in..
And called the number on the card, and received a lovely blue letter with a couple of oddly specific paperwork on a type of help he need, what is your age, your job occupied, have any illness or arthritis, needs in case of meta or superpower sudden surprises appear, how dangerous is your and your family lifestyle, etc
By the time he finished the paperwork and hand it sent back in the return blue letter. It was by day 5 on a Friday when he received a letter back, stating that that a ward been selected and will be coming from Amity Park to help him.
Alfred was expected a teenager, but a 7 year old boy with blaring light blue eyes, starlight like freckles, black hair with a medium space designed suitcase and a very old and worn out bearbert plush on top of it.
"Good morning, You must be Mr. Pennyworth, and I'm Danny." Danny beamed a soft smile with the eyes of wisdom and understanding. Alfred pause for a mere second before a soft smile bloomed and open the door wide for him.
"Hello there Danny, do come in. Alfred said softly as he watch danny a bit with curiosity.
Would you like a snack before we start the day?" Alfred ask as he escorted danny to the kitchen to help him with today breakfast along with a list of the breakfast dishes with ingredients.
"That ok, what would you like to help you do, cut the vegetables, stir the pot, help lift the food into the oven, or clean the dishes, because you aren't going to try and do that all with a broken arm, right?" Danny said as he look at today breakfast list, going to the sink and cleaning his hand thoroughly first before touching any fresh ingredients already put out while Alfred pick the frying pans, cups, dishes and utensils for the batfam.
Alfred notice right away that danny was floating a bit to pick the heavy large pot full of marinated food from the fridge that was supposed to be on the stove for slow brothing for later today dinner, considering alfred couldn't well take it out himself since his arm was broken..
Smiling softly to himself that it was a good idea to have a ward of his own as he teaches danny the best techniques to make a Benedict.
New post here
#dp x dc crossover#dpxdc#dc x dp#danny phantom#dp x dc#dc x dp prompt#danny is the ghost king#dcxdp#de aged danny#alfred pennyworth#Alfred get an apprentice#bruce developed the adoption gene by Alfred influence#elle phantom work for Helda in gotham#danny is well prepared for EVERYTHING#Jazz give danny BearBert for comfort since this is technically his first job out of Ghost duty
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Have My Baby
Pairing: Mafia!Max x Reader
Words: 4.6K
Rating: R
Warnings: Smut, breeding kink, slight size kink, p in v, oral (f receiving), wrap it before you tap it, dirty talk, mention of murder, etc.
Synopsis: Max wants another baby, but he'd have to convince you first.
A/N: I could cry with finally finishing this, @leclerced, @mariahcarreyyy, and @piastrification since here go babes, hope you love it, since I kept bothering y'all about it. Sorry, love ya ♥️
"Daddy, when do we go see Tante Victoria?" Max looks down and sees Casper playing with his toy cars on the floor. Max was getting ready to go into the office today, having just gotten out of the shower, and debated shaving. "Why would we go see Tante Victoria?" Max picks up the razor, still thinking it over. "Because Mama said she had a baby," Max hums, put the razor down, and moves into the closet.
He slid on his briefs and black dress pants, pulled out a belt, and weaved it through the holes. "That's right. She did have a baby, but she needs to heal first," Max explains, groaning, knees popping as he sits on the floor, joining Casper in playing cars. Are Mama and you going to have another baby?" Max chuckles, but honestly, that thought has been in his mind for a while.
Max wanted nothing more than to have a baby girl, but he needed to slowly convince you. You weren't in love when you two had Casper and Fabian—far from it. The marriage was arranged, and Max was so cold-hearted to you; the only reason the twins were born was out of the duty of needing an heir. Instead, he got two. Max slowly broke down when the boys were around five months old, and something in him changed forever.
It was maybe when someone tried to kill you three, he just snapped, and it made him aware of his feelings. Max didn't want a weakness, yet not showing it created one anyway.
Shaking his head, he leans over and kisses Casper on top of the head, who looks up with identical eyes, smiling. "Daddy, can we go wake Mama?" Max nods and stands, picking up Casper and carrying him into the bedroom. You lay there, sleeping peacefully, clutching onto Max's forgotten pillow. "Be gentle, mijn lieve engel." Casper nods and slowly crawls up, and Max smiles.
He never thought that five years after the twins were born, he would be carrying his little boy and happy at the thought of you waking up and smiling at him. "Mama, the sun is up; you should be up," Max smirks, seeing a small smile pull at your lips, fingers twitching. You probably woke when Caspian first came in and started to play on the bathroom floor while Max showered.
Casper loved being near Max, constantly surrounded by his father, and Max adored it. Fabian was always by your side; Max loved them both equally, but Casper reminded him of him when he was that age. He loved cars and wanted to be by his father. Max refuses to be like his father, but he still remembers the day he snapped at Casper, and the poor baby was terrified of him. Max still never fully forgave himself for that.
"Mama, wake up. Daddy and I need kisses." Max chuckles, moves to your side of the bed, and sits on the edge of it. Yeah, we need kisses," he whispers, giggling. You open your eyes and see your perfect boys, minus the one who loved sleep more than anything. "Well, let me pay the kiss tax then," Sitting up, you kiss Casper all over his face, turning your head. Max is quick and steals a quick kiss before kissing you again, this time slower.
"Ewwww," Casper gags, making you two giggle and pull him into a hug. "Go wake your brother," Max picks up Casper, who kicks and then runs down the hall, yelling Fabian's name. "Good morning," You breathe, and Max swoops down, stealing another kiss; you sigh, feeling his bare chest against your skin. "Go put on another shirt, we don't need another baby," You joke, but Max doesn't laugh. He wants another baby.
"Victoria had her baby." You smile, and Max nods. He wasn't very close to his sister, just enough to have a relationship, but with him being the head of the Dutch Mafia, Victoria didn't want her kids or husband in harm's way. He respected it. "Yes, a little girl. Is she cute?" Max asks, walking to the closet and grabbing a white button-down. "She's so adorable," You gush; you loved being an aunt but a mother even more.
Max smirked and walked back in, buttoning up his shirt. "Our baby girl would be cuter," He makes the comment offhanded, knowing you wouldn't think much of him saying that. He always liked to say your boys were cuter than his nephews. "Yeah," You whisper, looking at the picture of your niece with a smile. Max smiles and moves, pulling you close by your ankles, causing a squeal.
"Hey, you know I love you, right?" Max rarely said it, so when he did, it always caught you off guard and made you nervous. "I know, I've always known." You whisper, pressing your foreheads together before kissing him gently. "Go say bye to the boys. Come home safe to me." Max nods and kisses you one more time, savoring the moment. Sighing, he pulls away and heads to the boy's rooms.
He stops just a little from their door, hearing their laughter and play fighting. "You'll never win!" Fabby yells, and Casper's loud giggles fill the room. Max could listen to that sound for the rest of his life if he could. He did this job so they could laugh and have that innocence for a little longer. Moving, he knocks on the door and pokes his head in; blinking fast, he takes in the scene before him.
"Casper, why are your pants on your head?" The twins giggle like it's some secret, making Max smile softly and enter the room. "We're bandits, Daddy," Fabian says in an obvious tone as if Max should've known what they were doing. "Bandits, hm, alright, my little bandits, get dressed and eat breakfast. I've got to go to work." Max yanks the pj pants off Casper's head, who giggles and grabs some shorts and t-shirts.
Crouching down, Max helps the twins get dressed, giving each a hug and kiss. "Be good for your mother, understand me, little bandits?" Both boys nod, "Boys! Breakfast!" The twins shove each other all the way, laughter on their trail. Max stands and walks past the kitchen; catching your eye, he winks and walks out the door.
"Mommy, sleepy." Looking up, you see the time and notice you missed their nap. Placing your book down, you let Fabby crawl into your arms as Casper was knocked out on the floor. "Can we watch cartoons?" Kissing the top of his head, you pull him closer and nod. "Of course, Scooby-doo?" Fabby's little head moves up and down quickly.
Hearing the theme, you settle in, but with the warmth and weight of your baby, you, too, fall asleep.
Max hated when you didn't answer his calls, but honestly, it was the perfect excuse to get away from work, leaving everything to the kids and letting them get trigger-happy. He was getting older and didn't find the thirst for blood anymore; it's crazy how you and the kids have changed him so much.
There was also a slight butterfly feeling in his stomach. He learned this was called anxiety from you. He was never one to be anxious, but after you had the boys, whenever you didn't answer, or you weren't wearing your tracker. Max gifted you a first-anniversary diamond necklace; it was small, perfect, and didn't draw attention. While the diamond was perfect, underneath it was a little tracker.
You knew it was a tracker and always wore it for your protection. Today, though, you and the boys were having a lazy day as the nice weather had taken a turn, and it was raining. Max tries hard not to think the worst, as the guards alert him that no one has entered or even left the penthouse, so he knows you and the boys are safe. Pulling up, he doesn't bother locking the car as he steps into the elevator and hits his floor.
Living at the top pays off, especially when you own the building. Stepping off, he nods to his guards, and they move back downstairs, where they had only stayed in the house when Max wasn't home. Smiling, he hears the Scooby-Doo cartoon and slowly moves into the living room and stops, taking in the scene before him.
You lay on the couch with Fabby and Casper cuddled into you. Max can't help but think back to when they were newborns when you and Max would be so tired and fall asleep on the couch with them curled between you two. It was Max's first memory of truly falling in love with you and the kids. Moving closer, he leans over the couch and kisses your cheek gently. "Love you," He whispers, removes his shoes to not wake you three, and heads to the kitchen.
Seeing the staff, Max smiles and waves them off. "Have the night off; I can cook." They all nod, say their thanks, and leave out the back door, and Max smiles, thinking about the cook. Rummaging through the fridge, he finds chicken, nuggets, and other foods. He steps up the grill and turns it on. Max moves around cooking dinner and smiles at the finishing products. Grabbing the plates, he places the plates down and puts the boy's sippy cups and you in a small glass of wine with water, and he just drinks water.
Walking in, he sees Casper is awake and makes grabby hands for his Dad. "Take a good nap with Mommy?" Casper lays his head on Max's shoulder and nods his head. "Hungry?" Casper nods again, Max taking him, placing him in his chair, and passing him his apple juice. "Thank you, Daddy." Max turns and feels his heart melt, seeing his sweet boy so soft and warm. "You're welcome, Casper; I will get your mother and brother. Be good." Casper nods and stares at the strawberries beside the meal, and Max chuckles.
Heading in, he leans against the door frame, watching as you trace the outline of Fabian's sleeping face. "Makes me want another," You whisper, sensing Max's eyes watching you. Your husband has to take a deep breath to stop his body from reacting; smiling sweetly, he walks over and pulls you two into his arms. "I wouldn't mind another," You smile hearing those words but shake your head slightly as Fabby whines and rubs his eyes.
"Buddy, I made dinner. Are you ready?" Fabby sits up, and you're lucky you have fast reflexes. You lean back quickly when Fabian runs into the dining room. "You cooked?" You weren't shocked. Max used to cook for you all the time initially, but he stopped a while ago. I felt like doing it while you were sleeping with the boys." Max helps you up and pulls you into his chest, kissing the tip of your nose.
"I made you a salad if you want it. But I grilled chicken, rice, and some veggies. The boys are eating cut-up grilled chicken, a little serving of mac and cheese, and their favorite fruit. I will also try to get them to try out veggies." You swear you fall in love with him all over again hearing that. "You're hot being a dad, you know that?" Max chuckles and leads you to the dining room.
"I'm a daddy," You laugh, smacking his stomach as you join your two boys for dinner.
"Victoria, she's adorable." You coo, washing your hands, eagerly waiting to hold your baby niece. Victoria and her family decided to pay a visit after she was feeling better. Victoria knew it'd be easier to visit and safer for her to come to you four. Fabian and Casper look into the car seat, staring as their cousins play with Max on the floor.
"Mommy, can we have one?" Fabian turns, staring at you with wide eyes, and you think for a moment. Max's attention suddenly zeroes in on you. Fabby, why don't you go play with your Dad and cousins," You deflect the question, and Max stares at you; looking sideways, you blush at the way your husband is staring at you. "Here you go," you sit down and happily take the baby into your arms, Max clears his throat and tells the boys to run off.
The four terrors run down the hall to the twins, and Max stands, fixes his pants, and sits down next to you. "What do you think?" You giggle at Max's dumb question but really consider it. Did you really want a third? Recently, you've been seeing the kid's old baby stuff around, making you miss having a baby in the house. "Can I?" Max whispers as your niece has fallen asleep.
Victoria smiled, relaxing as her husband was watching the boys, letting her have a breath. Max gently takes the baby and stands, rocking side to side, and damn if it didn't do something to you. Seeing your husband in his suit holding a baby girl did something to you in a way you couldn't understand. It made your body light up with need, making it impossible to sit still.
Max knew what he was doing to you; it was a dirty trick, really. He noticed how you reacted to some character on a show who was still in his suit and holding his child. Max ensured they arrived right when he got home, so he had no excuse to change. Seeing how your breathing has picked up, your pupils dilated to the point he couldn't see the color in your eyes.
"Tori, she's so lovely," Max whispers, gently lowering the baby into the little cot. He smiles when she grabs his finger and holds on tight. And strong, too," he giggles and can't help but imagine holding his little girl. A little girl with your hair and his eyes, he could picture it. "Daddy, can we have one?" Max looks down, sees Casper, and chuckles, kneeling slowly with the baby in his arms. "You want another sibling?" Casper nods and leans, kissing his cousin's head gently before running down the hall.
You can't help but think about liking another baby in the house.
Standing in the bathroom, you gently remove your makeup and watch Max climb out of the shower. "Max?" Wrapping the towel around his waist, he grabs his toothbrush. He looks at you through the mirror, waiting for you to continue. "Um, I've been thinking about having another baby," you look down, embarrassed to even say this. "So have I, I'd like a little girl, but I'd be okay with another boy," Shrugging his shoulders, he starts to brush his teeth while you smile. "Yeah, I'd like a little girl too," Picturing yourself holding a baby with a pink hat.
"Do you have to go?" Holding your tea, you sit on the ottoman as Max packs a bag, fast and filled with anger. "Yes, I don't want to go, trust me. The last thing I want to do is leave you and the boys," Zipping it up, he almost breaks the zipper and leans on his dresser, the tension like a rubberband ready to snap.
"I'll tell them you went to visit Victoria," You never liked telling the boys what their father was really doing; they're only four years old. "That's smart, considering she lives far." Max stands up and faces you. It was early, far too early for you to even be up. But, the sound of his phone going off woke you, and here you sat with one lamp, wearing his shirt and drinking tea.
He couldn't love you more. "I love you," He can't help the words pass his lips as he stalks forward, pulling you up and kissing you deeply, but with such passion, you want to cry. It was the kiss he gave you, the same one that said goodbye in such a strange way that made your soul ache. Pulling away, Max smiles, seeing your eyes closed, taking in the kiss. "Come back to me," You whisper, eyes fluttering open as you stare into his. "I'll burn the world down to come home to you." Kissing you gently all over your face, arms strong around your body.
Kissing you one last time, he slips into the shadows, leaving you cold. You never thought Max would be your warmth.
"Mommy, I miss Daddy," Fabian whispers as you tuck him into bed. It was the fifth night Max was gone, and you were trying to explain why he had been gone so long. "I know, baby, I miss Daddy too." Lying on his bed, Casper is fast asleep and curled around his lion plushie Max got him when they were firstborn. Fabian curls more into your side as you read him another bedtime story. Soft breaths pull your attention, and you see Fabian is now passed out, clutching his lion stuffie close.
Sliding slowly off the bed, you're careful not to wake him. Bending down, you ghost over a kiss on both your boy's heads, slipping out of the room and closing the door. Resting your back on the door, you wish you had Max with you; the boys would love to sleep in your bed with your husband. They always slept with you two when he came back from his trips.
Closing your eyes, you take another deep breath, push off, and head to your bedroom. You hated how cold it felt still, how much you craved to smell just a hint of his cologne, his gummy smile when the boys did something that made him so happy, the way he moved through the house like he wasn't there, but you knew from the giggles that trailed him. You missed him in such a way that ached deep within. You fall asleep crying.
Max groans, rolling his neck as he steps into the penthouse. His guards nod, but he waves them away and slips his shoes off, not wanting to wake anyone. Max wants to slip into a hot shower, pull you into his arms, and fall asleep. He wants nothing more than to grab the boys, but he worries that seeing him slightly bruised and cut will scare them. So he just heads to your shared room and slips in; noticing how you're curled around his pillow, he feels a deep pang in his heart.
He missed you the most during the night, wanting nothing more than to reach over and feel your body melt into his. It's been cold at night, and he no longer refuses to deal with that. Sighing, he pulls at his shirt, groaning quietly as his ribs ache from the cuts and bruises on them. Mud and blood in his hair, face, and clothes, burying a dead body was not easy. Especially when the body used to be one of your men. Turning on the shower, his muscles relax as he thinks about how good it will feel to have the warmth on his cold-bitten skin.
Stripping off the rest of the clothes, Max stretches, steps into the shower, and groans at the heat seeping deep into his skin. Closing his eyes, Max leans his head back and enjoys the silence of his own home. Max craved silence as he grew up with such anger and hatred it was never quiet. Now, he loved the silence here, but it was a different type of silence. The silence meant everyone was happy, loved, and at peace. Max loved the noise; it was no longer filled with anger and hatred. It was one filled with childlike innocence and happiness; he craved it while he was away.
Max opens his eyes and smiles, turning his head and seeing the outline of your figure. "Join me?" It was a soft ask that required you to lift his shirt over your head and drop it. Max craved to feel your skin against him, like air, and he couldn't breathe. "You're home," You whisper, sighing when Max pulls you close to each other's naked body. "I'm home," He whispers, resting his forehead on your shoulder blade. You loved having his body pressed against you, which made you feel safe, but it was also dizzy. Max was built and bigger than you, and it just made your brain go fuzzy around the edges.
Max knew what he was doing, pushing his body against you; you made it no secret that you loved he was bigger than you. "Max," You whisper, running your hands down his back as he presses himself against you, pressing kisses over your neck and shoulder. "Max," You whimper as his teeth scrape the weak spot over your neck that makes your legs feel weak. "Yes, Schat?" His voice husky and deep, pulling back his eyes dilated and dark. "I want another baby," You whisper, slowly spreading your legs, and Max groans.
Reaching down, you let your head thump back on the glass as his rough fingers ghost over your lips. "Yeah? Do you want another baby? Want me to fill you so deep?" His voice turns into a growl, fingers moving and pinching your clit before rubbing slow circles. You whimper, grabbing onto his shoulders, and nod your head fast. "Yes, fuck please, fuck me so deep, use me. Please, Max." You beg, the ache between your legs growing so that you could cry from him just burying himself deep inside you.
Max smirks, moving his hand up your back and into your hair, grabbing it and pulling your head back, and you hiss, the burn scratching something deep in you. "Spread your legs, my little siren." You giggle, having not heard that nickname in so long. You clumsily grab the bars in the shower and spread your legs, Max slowly getting to his knees and pressing kisses on your hip. "Sorry," You apologize, and Max arches an eyebrow. "Siren, I don't care." He chuckles at the hair. He could give a damn.
You gasp, closing your eyes when his tongue flattens and suddenly licks up and down with slow, long stripes. Body relaxing, you let your weight fall on his face, and he groans, feeling it. Large hands move up the back of your legs before slapping your ass. A surprised laugh escapes you, and Max smirks, blue eyes bright, as his lips wrap around your clit and suck before letting go and moving his tongue fast before slowing down. His hands move away from your ass and hold onto your hips and groan, feeling the way you're getting puffy.
He's missed this feeling, the way your pussy feels on his face. He could die like this happily. You whine at Max's pace, and he moves one of his hands, fingers moving down and slowly entering you before curling and moving in and out. You sigh, the feeling in you turning warm as you feel that slight tightness in the stomach grow more and more. Max, feeling your warm and cushy, pulls, pulls his fingers out and lays one last kiss. You open your eyes, vision hazy as you slip, and Max catches you holding you up.
"Turn around, siren." You nod and turn around, spreading your legs as you feel him stand right behind you. He groans, staring at your ass, slapping it, the sound bouncing off the shower walls. You groan, dropping your head at the heavy feeling of his hand slapping you. Max smirks as he jerks himself slowly. He moves and rubs himself between your lips, and your mouth waters, missing the weight of him in you. "Max, don't tease me." You beg, and he chuckles, leaning over your back.
His hand grabs your throat and arches you back. "Don't mouth off to me, siren, or else I'll choke you with my cock instead." Moaning at the idea, he chuckles and slowly slides in, your mouth dropping open as he stretches you open with a delicious feeling. Max bottoms out, groaning as he takes in the sight of your back arching and the reflection of the glass, your mouth open and eyes rolled back. "Ready?" You nod at his question as he pulls back and then forward.
The motion has you rocking forward, slamming your hands on the glass they drag down as his hips slam hard on your ass, fucking you hard and deep. "Fuck, feel so damn good." You whimper, trying to find something to hold onto. Reaching around, Max takes both your wrists in his large hand and pulls your arms back. The sting of everything itched something deep in you. "Right there, fuck Max," Max smirks and pulls your arms and moves his hips faster, watching your tits bounce; leaning back, he enjoys the view of him pulling out and being swallowed by your pussy.
Max pulls you, and you whimper at the loss. Spinning you around, he picks you up with ease, and you whine as he presses your back onto the cold shower window and you whine. Max wraps his arms under your legs and places your ankles on his shoulders as he slides into you again. Your fingers pull at his short blonde strands, groaning; he fucks deeper into you from this angle.
"Want a baby? Want me to fuck a baby into you? Fuck, you'd look gorgeous all swollen with my baby. Goddamn," Max groans, his legs burning, but he doesn't care to be driven by his need to fill you and make sure you know who's gotten you pregnant. "Yes, please, Max," You cry, tears swimming in your eyes. "Yeah, going to fuck you, full baby, beg for it." You whimper as you try to find the words, but your mind is blank, just being so fucked out of it. Max groans and reaches down, rubbing his thumb over your sensitive clit. "Max," Your voice is airy and squeaky as you feel everything in your body becoming hot and tight.
"Going to come around, my cock; such a good girl for me, my good girl." You whine as he angles his hips and hits your spot. As you close your eyes and open your mouth, no noise emerges as you surround him. Max still fucks you through it and groans before pulling out and then sliding deep inside you and coming, his muscles so damn tight they could snap as he continued to fuck you, making sure it was staying inside.
You whine as he pulls you and slowly sits you down. "Max," Your throat raw, but he moves and slides two fingers in you, making sure nothing drips out. You whine, sensitive, and he kisses your face gently. "Sorry, want to make sure nothing goes to waste." He whispers and pulls his fingers out, and sucks them into his mouth. "Let's finish showering." Nodding your head, too tired to keep your eyes open, he smiles and holds you close as he cleans you both.
Picking you up bridal style, he dries you off and dresses you. Kissing you gently, he lays you in bed. But he doesn't lay down just yet, pulling on some boxers and shorts; he doesn't like not having the boys here. "I'm getting the boys," you whine as an answer, breathing evening out as you fall back asleep. Max smiles and moves through the house, going to the twins' room. Stepping in, he smiles, seeing them both with their lion stuffies. Moving carefully, not wanting to step on stray toys, he scoops both boys up and smiles at their weights in his arms.
Casper whines but cuddles closer, and Fabby just lies like dead weight. Walking back to the bedroom, he lays them down gently and tucks them in before climbing in. Max smiles, pulls you three close, and sighs. Max never wanted to give this up.
#f1#formula 1#f1 fandom#formula one#f1 x reader#f1 imagine#f1 x y/n#f1 scenario#f1 fics#f1 angst#f1 smut#f1 fanfic#f1 fic#max verstappen#max verstappen x reader#max verstappen imagine#max verstappen x you#max verstappen fanfic#max verstappen fluff#max verstappen smut#max verstappen scenario#mafia!f1#f1!mafia#mafia!max verstappen#f1 blurb#f1 max verstappen#mv1#mv1 x reader#mv1 imagine#mv1 fic
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STOP IT RAFE, YOU'RE BEING MEAN! — RAFE CAMERON
pairing; bestfriend!rafe cameron x fem!reader
summary; rafe has a strict rule that if you ever leave anywhere, you tell him. and when you break that rule, he goes ballistic (bsf!rafe cameron x reader)
warnings ; angst! verbal fighting, angry!rafe, kinda mean rafe, theyre both annoyingly oblivious.. warning this did not turn out how i planned it to be but im also not mad at it, idkkkk
to say you were bored was an understatement.
it was a regular rowdy saturday night in the outerbanks, this nights party being at a random kooks house on the figure eight whose name you couldn't quite remember
you were nursing a forgotten red solo cup of punch in your hand, crowd-watching to pass the time.
it wasn't normal that rafe actually succeeded in convincing you to come to these things. because as much as you liked chatting with spoiled self-absorbed kooks over disgustingly sweet punch, you'd rather stay cuddled up in your fluffy pyjamas and watch sappy romcoms on rafe's couch.
but nevertheless, here you were. dreading every decision you had ever made up to that point as you watched rafe from across the room. a blonde kook girl climbing over him and straddling his hips, sitting on his lap as he smirked.
you knew you really had no right being mad at him because you weren’t dating.
but from the start of your more than 10 year friendship, rafe made it clear that you were and always will be his.
so why didn’t that rule go both ways?
with all the thoughts bouncing around in your head, you failed to hear a certain blonde pouges voice echo around you.
you snapped out of your state, consciousness returning to your mind as a hand was waved repeatedly in your face.
“hey! you there princess?” a smile adorned the boys face, a ratty snapback placed backwards on his blonde hair.
“yeah, jj. right here” you joked, smiling brightly back at him as you brought your cup up to your lips.
“thought we lost you there for a bit princess? what’d you doing standing here all alone?” jj asked, surprised to see your constant kook king shadow nowhere to be seen.
“just people watching, the usual. where’s kie?” you quickly changed the subject, wanting anything to get your mind off of rafe.
“around here somewhere i hope. gonna’ try to round everyone up to we can get outta here. early morning for us cut goers tomorrow, fish to catch and things to steal” you giggled at his joke, earning an even wider grin on his face.
you always liked jj. you thought he was funny, and he was the most loyal person to his friends that you knew. and despite his manic tendencies, you trusted him.
“have a nice night j. drive safe!” you said, watching him wink at you before he disappeared into the crowd.
with jj gone, you were left to your own thoughts agian, which was never a good thing.
you glanced over again at rafe sitting comfortably on the couch on the deck. the light from inside illuminating his face as he leaned over to the table, picking up a small bag of white powder and handing it to a random touran.
you bit your lip as you noticed the same blonde from before clinging to his side, rafe seeming unbothered but making no move to push her off.
god, you couldn’t even imagine how rafe would react if he saw you speaking to jj earlier. so why is it that he can literally let a girl dry hump him in the middle of a party and you shouldn’t care?
you didn’t know why you cared though, because rafe is you best friend, nothing more.
right?
you didn’t have time to think about that right now though, you just needed to get the fuck out of this party right now or you were gonna explode.
an idea clicked in your brain and jj dragged a drunk john b towards the entrance of the house, kiara and pope following quickly behind.
you decided that this was now or never, placing your red solo cup onto a random table as you walked towards them.
“hey jj!” you called out, his head immediately snapping towards you. “you think you could give me a ride home?”
it was nearly 30 minutes later that rafe noticed you were no longer in your spot in corner of the house. business was coming to a halt as he sold his last few grams of cocaine, a heavy wad of cash safely resting in his back pocket.
his eyes scanned the crowd for your face, but you were no where to be seen.
and rafe was starting to freak the fuck out.
he knew you wouldn’t go upstairs to any bedrooms, or go out for an impulse swim in the pool. and he knew most of all that you wouldn’t just leave without telling him, and the notification box in his voice remained empty from your contact.
he ran his hand roughly through his hair, pulling aggressively at the roots and cussing to himself frustrated.
his eyes widened as he saw your friend in the crowd, interrupting what ever useless conversation she was having, because until he knew you were safe, nothing was more important.
he asked rudely where you were, watching as her face morphed into shock that rafe was talking to her. because well, if it’s not plotting on the pouges or selling drugs, rafe doesn’t interact with anyone but you or his friends.
“i-i im not sure. i saw her leave like a bit less than half an hour ago. i thought she told you, she always does”
rafe clenched his jaw, hundreds and thousands of thoughts running through his head. “was she alone?”
“n-no. she was with that jj guy and his friends” your friend murmured, nervous she was ratting you out to the scariest guy in the whole of kildare.
it was safe to say that rafe was fucking pissed.
it took him less than a few seconds to put his keys into the ignition of his jeep and drive illegally fast to your house. you liked to piss him off often when you were in a mood, but never with your safety.
rafe never fucked with your safety, ever.
he murmured venomous cusses to himself and he walked towards your house, the pebbles from your mothers perfect drive way crunching under his feet as he speed to your door.
he made a beeline to the entrance of your home, the white arches welcoming and the doorway dimly lit by the porch lights.
he planted his feet straight on the 'welcome home' door mat, lifting his balled fist up to the door and sending booming knocks to the wood panel.
his knuckles were white as he clenched his fists so hard together there was sure to be crimson-red crescent indents from his fingernails. he was fuming.
the click of the lock releasing from the door snapped him out of his thoughts, the door handle turning and the lobby of the inside of your house quickly coming into view.
he locked eyes with your figure immediately, a pink fluffy towel in your hand as you dried your hair. you were only wearing a pair of long socks and rafes shirt which reached more than halfway down your thighs, your face bare of makeup.
you jumped as you saw the look on his face, an anger prevalent in his stare that you had never seen directed at you. fuck. you were in some deep shit.
you parted your lips to speak, but nothing seemed to come out. for the first time in your life, you were scared of rafe. not that he was going to harm you physically, no, never that.
but you knew how much he cared about you and your safety. you just wished he cared that much about your feelings. you wanted him to see that.
"rafe" you said, your voice coming out as a whisper as you watch the lines on his forehead crease together as thousands of thoughts ran through his head.
"what the fuck were you thinking?" he spat as he pushed you as softly as he could into the house so he could close the door, worried the cold of the night was going to make you shiver.
you didn't have time to answer before he started again, running a hand roughly through his hair as he huffed. "you just left? you fucking left a party at night without even texting me, and you let that fucking pouge drive you home!"
you rolled your eyes at the last statement, this was all about jj? "so that's all you care about? me going home with a boy i've known since third grade who just so happens to live on the cut? you don't give a shit about me, you just care about this stupid kook pouge rivalry!"
"don't say what you know isn't true ma. you know i care about you more than i care about myself." he stated, nearly all the anger in him draining out as he saw your eyes begin to fill with tears. he couldn't handle seeing you cry.
"how do i know you care about me rafe? because you don't seem to show it." you sighed pushing yourself as far away from him as you could, your back pushing up against the wall.
"don't fucking say to me y/n. i've loved you from the moment i met you." you finally stopped looking at the floor, lifting your chin so you made eye contact with him.
"stop it rafe, you're being mean" you whispered, mostly to yourself more than rafe. you couldn't listen to him say how much he loved and cared about you for one more second. not when you still had the picture of him being essentially dry-humped in the middle of a party by a girl you didn't even know.
"ma i love you. you know that. you're my world, my favourite girl. why are you fighting this?" rafe said, trying to hold you wrist in his hand before you quickly pulled it away.
"bec-because you can't just say all this then turn around and have make outs with other girls right in front of me. it-its not fair." you spoke, the tears finally making their way down your cheeks in steady streams.
rafe physically flinched at your statement, his palms getting sweaty and his heart rate increasing into rapid beats. was he actually going to admit his love for you right now, like this?
"what are you saying y/n?" he asked, his voice cracking as his face fell. his mind racing with how many outcomes could come out of this conversation.
"that i love you, you idiot!"
#rafe cameron#rafe cameron drabble#rafe cameron imagine#rafe cameron x reader#rafe cameron fluff#rafe cameron angst
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Jealous Nott
Summary: Y/n is being hit on by Fred and George and it gets Theodore pissed, ~and jealous.
He was sure why he was fuming. You were on the other side of the room getting hit on by the comedic duo, usually he liked them. They were funny as hell but right now as they made you laugh he wanted to shove their jokes up their asses.
"Teds, ya steaming at the ear mate," Matteo remarked, he had never seen Theodore so worked up over someone. He followed his line of sight and burst out laughing, making Theodore send him a glare. "Bloody hell, over y/n"
"They're hitting on her, is she gonna fuck the both of them," His eyes were were boring holed at the twins. His jaw clenched when he noticed how close they'd gotten to her.
"She's a free bird y'know unless you go get her cause Fred's pulling his signature pick up, with the ring-" Theo was already out of his seat. In quick strides he crossed the room, he snaked his hand around her.
Due to the height difference he bent down and put his neck into the crook of her neck.
"Hey boys, why don't you go blow up a bath yeah?" Fred and George both raised their hands in mock surrender, they knew a lost battle when they saw one.
"Got it," George started
"We reckon we can get a couple out," Fred finished as he winked at y/n. "If you ever get tired of this Joker y'know where to find us," before they both left leaving y/n with Theo.
"What are you doing, I was about to get laid," y/n joked.
"Were you gonna fuck the both of em!?"
"Maybe," she smirked. "I do have two holes,"
Theodore's eye brows rose. "Interesting,"
"Theo I'm wanking, what's up?" He noticed how she leant into him.
"I-" he hadn't thought about what he was gonna do once he drove those Weasley boys out. "Well I-"
"Do not tell me the great snarky sarcastic, Theodore Graham Nott, has gone speechless?" He noticed how her eyes glittered as she smiled. The stars were in her eyes.
"It's not Graham luv," He chided.
"I said it's Graham so it's Graham," She said leaving no room for argument.
"Yes Ma'am," Deep down he knew if she asked him to change his name, he'd do it in a heartbeat.
"You're hot when you're jealous," Theodore nearly missed the sentence.
"One, I'm not jealous. Two." He said bringing her closer. "You think I'm hot?" He mumbles into her neck.
"I've always thought you're hot," she whispered back. He chuckled into her neck sending shivers up her spine. She traced his bicep through his uniform.
"Really," Her lips looked so kissable.
"Yeah"
"I want to kiss you so badly luv,"
"Then do it you wanker,"
Theodore crashed his lips to hers, trying to memorize every curve of her mouth, his hand moved from her waist to her hips then back again. He fought the urge to grab her ass.
After a beat he moved his head back an inch.
"You'll be the fucking death of me," he whispered agsinst her lips dropping the lightest kisses on her face from her cheeks to her forehead.
"I should say the same about you, I could fucking feel your cigarettes," he laughed. He loved the girl and he was going to fucking keep her
#theodore nott#theodore nott x reader#theodore nott x you#theodore nott x y/n#theodore nott fanfiction#Harry Potter
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If you think the CC boys aren't looking for Eddie, you're wrong
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Steve opened his trunk and placed the groceries inside, Eddie’s special requests next to his usual staples and the excessive number of snacks he had grabbed for this week’s check in at Hopper’s cabin. Eddie was probably just being cute, requesting the same thing they had brought him in the boathouse, but Steve figured it would be just as cute to refill the request anyway. Anything to make Eddie smile and call him a sap in that overly sweet way he had.
He closed the trunk, pulling his keys out of his pocket. Already excited to get home to that amused smile and twinkling eyes.
“Where the fuck is Eddie?”
Steve jumped about a foot in the air, spinning on the spot, fumbling his keys in an embarrassing 3-part scramble that still ended with them clanking to the ground. He’s effectively trapped against his car, three boys glaring at him from a few feet away. How the hell did they sneak up on him in tandem like that?
They stood in a V-formation, arms crossed and eyes angry. The one in front, a black boy with braces and close-cropped hair who was doing his best to stare down at Steve despite their roughly even height, spoke again. “We don’t know what is going on, what happened, but you and Henderson are definitely involved.”
“I… I don’t…” Steve looked around quickly, hoping something would appear and save him from this conversation. Nothing did, the parking lot was empty except for them. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Bullshit, man!” the smallest of the three exclaimed, pointing angrily in Steve’s face. “Whatever the fuck happened involved your stupid basketball team and our freshman members and god KNOWS what else but there’s no way Eddie would ever-”
“He didn’t do anything to that girl,” the first boy interrupted, Jeff, Steve’s brain slowly supplied, based on stories he’d heard from both Dustin and Eddie. This must be the rest of Corroded Coffin. Jeff, Gareth, and… shit what was the third kids name? Doesn’t matter, he needed to come up with an exit strategy fast.
Steve raised his hands, painfully aware that his keys were still on the ground. “Look, guys, I don’t- I don’t know what you want from me. Yeah, I don’t believe Eddie did anything to Chrissy. Henderson is at home, I haven’t even seen him in days. I don’t know where Eddie would’ve gone after the earthquake, you’d know better than-”
“You’ve got his battle jacket in your back seat.” Unnamed member cut in, voice hard.
“You just bought honeycombs, yoo-hoos, and camel cigarettes.” Gareth, the little one, chimed in.
Jeff took a step forward, making sure Steve was looking at him before he slowly reached forward and carefully pulled on the chain around Steve’s neck, drawing the guitar pick out from where it had rested under his shirt. The younger boy just raised his eyebrows, emphasizing the implication.
Steve sagged against his car, and Jeff let the necklace slip from his fingers as it was pulled back with his movement. It fell against the outside of his shirt, the red and black guitar pick stark and damning against the light blue of today’s polo.
Steve rubbed at his face, refusing to meet the trio of accusing glares. These were Eddie’s friends. His brothers according to the metalhead in question. There was no reason for Steve to be wearing that necklace other than what it was: a claim. They would know that, better than anyone. There was no getting out of this.
“Jesus H. Christ, okay. Okay. He’s… at my place. Just, follow me, I guess.”
#steddie#ficlet#established relationship#friendship#Eddie has FRIENDS damnit#he's popular in his own way#friendship is important they wouldn't let it go#the CC boys would burn shit down to find him
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❍ ‗ Tough Work - Bang Chan ‗ ❍
Pairing : Bang Chan x f Reader
Summary : Bang Chan gets his plans ruined yet again by a late notice schedule and he's pissed. His friends call his girlfriend to the rescue to calm him down before he punches his laptop.
Word count : 3.2k
Warnings/tags : a little angst at the beginning, Chan is an emotional mess, swear words, smut (ONLY 18+), sex on a desk chair, unprotected sex (don't be silly goofy y'all), use of pet name baby, baby girl.
A/n : I had some inspo (not gonna tell you eheh) + it's the holiday season so yeah why not! Let's slut the holidays away🤣🙏🏻 merry Xmas pookies 🤎Also be KIND it's my first full written fic since like...august or sumn
masterlist
ps: No Beta'd. Do NOT repost on other socials. Leave feedback if you feel like it, otherwise enjoy!
♡︎.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.
When Hyunjin called you, it definitely came as a surprise. It was around five pm and you were doing absolutely nothing except chill on the couch watching a movie on your (very deserved) days off for the holidays. Until the phone suddenly rang, making you curious as you saw the name calling. Especially since you thought you heard Chan, your boyfriend, saying that they were working today.
'Hello?'
'Hey, yn, hi. Are you busy right now?' your friend's voice sounded slightly defeated as he answered, even though you could tell he was trying to play it off.
'Hyune, hi. No, I'm not, what's up? Is everything okay?' you sat straight, listening carefully.
'Yes and no. Listen, we got some late notice from the company and now Chan hyung is pissed. Like very pissed.' you frowned as he sighed, 'But mostly he's upset. And I know for a fact that the only thing that can calm him down it's you. Would you mind maybe coming over?'
You and Chan were supposed to meet at your apartment to have dinner together later, despite that you didn't even think twice before getting up and walking to your room to change quickly.
'Yes, got it. Don't worry, I'll be there in 10.'
-
You didn't bother getting ready properly, with a full on makeup and hair done, or a carefully picked out outfit. Usually you'd have some decency going out, even just for meeting your friends. But right now you didn't have the time, nor the mood for it.
Hyunjin didn't give too many details, but since he mentioned a late notice schedule, you probably imagined that it would mess with your and Chan's plans for New Year's. It was not the first time that it happened unfortunately, but then again, it was his work. He couldn't truly help it, and you knew that it upset him.
You put on a gray wool oversized dress, some pantyhose, a padded jacket and a beanie, after quickly fixing your hair slightly. Then you grabbed your bag and before you knew it, you were in your car driving to the boys' dorm.
-
Like you predicted, around ten minutes later you arrived and opted on sending Hyunjin a text instead of ringing the bell. He immediately came to answer the door and gave you a quick hug and a small smile.
'Changbin is not home. Me and Jisung are going out for a while, okay? Let me know when the threath has been doomed.' he joked, just as you waved to Jisung who was wrapping a big scarf around his neck. He smiled back and hugged you too.
'Thank you, yn. He wouldn't hear us out at all, so we decided to call you.' he said. You shook your head slightly as you took off the beanie.
'It's okay. I'm sorry that you guys probably also had some plans spoiled.' you responded. They both had a sweet yet quite defeated expression on as you switched places, them on the doorstep on their way out and you on your way in.
'Ah, It's alright. It's out job after all. Take your time, alright?' Hyunjin replied, and you nodded with a small smile before they closed the door behind them.
You sighed, mentally preparing to try and not look too disappointed. You were, of course, but now it wasn't about you. And besides, the last thing you would've wanted was to make Chan feel more guilty.
You made your way down the corridor to his room, which was pretty much silent. You knocked on the door gently, and just after a couple of seconds your boyfriend showed up. He was wearing a black hoodie, gray tracksuit pants and his big headphones. His face looked tired, serious and there was the slightest hint of red in his eyes.
His expression switched fast as soon as he realized it was you at the door and not one of his roommates, which had already taken turns in trying to comfort him and calm him down. He even had a small argument with Changbin, hence why he had to leave the house before they started shouting names at each other.
'Yn? What- weren't we supposed to meet later? Did I loose track of time-?' he quickly glanced down at the time on his phone, taking off the headphones with one hand and discarding them on his bed. The wallpaper being a sweet picture of you too making yout heart shrink a bit.
'Channie, hi baby. No, it's okay, you didn't. A little bird told me you needed some cheering up.' you smiled sweetly at him as you brought your hands up to stroke his arms.
He scoffed, releasing himself from your grip gently, just to walk back and plop down on his big plush desk chair.
'Which one of those fu-...ah, I don't even care. I assume that they told you, then?' he sighed heavily, stopping himself from curing at his friends. You walked closer, taking off your bag and jacket, placing them on the clothes hanger behind the door.
'Don't be mad. They did it because they care about you enough to not see your hair turn white from stress before your time.' you tried to lighten up the mood, but it didn't seem to work as he just proceeded to put his head down in between his hands.
Your smile fell, taking a deep breath, understanding that he really needed some time to get out his feelings first.
'Just about a late notice schedule. Nothing more, but I assume that it's for New Year's. Is that why you're so upset?' you scrunched down in frot of him, your hands placed on his knees.
He waited a few seconds before speaking, his voice low and quite monotone. 'We got two Japan schedules for the 31st and the 1st. But we have to leave on the 29th. And we'll probably not going to be back before the 2nd. Just in time for our already pre paid and organized planes to be canceled. Of fucking course.' his tone getting sharper as he spoke.
You stroked his thigh gently to comfort him, 'I'm sorry, baby. I know you were looking forward to a few days off.' you responded. He shook his head, frowning as he sat up straight.
'Fuck the days off. I can have days off all year. I was looking forward to spending at leas one fucking holiday with my girlfriend, in peace in a nice luxury cabin in the middle of damn nowhere.' he ranted angrily, before pausing for a second and giving you a quick look. 'It's me the one who should be sorry.'
'But it's not your fault, Chan. It's work, you have schedules and many times they may not be planned. That's how it works for many other jobs too, think about it.' you try to reason, once again taking his hands into your stroking them.
'It's the third time in four months. First it was your birthday, then Christmas, and now New Year's. It's starting to stress me out. Isn't it stressing you out?' he asked, frowning. You sighed.
'What do you want me to say? 'Chris this is too much, you're always busy with stuff that's out of your control so I'm leaving you'? Is that what you want to hear?' your tone slightly more stern. You weren't mad, but his constant throwing himself under the bus was bothering you. He widened his brown eyes, squeezing your hands slightly.
'No! What? Of course not. I was just-' you stood up straight, shushing him.
'Then stop with that shit. We can reschedule later. I don't give a fuck whether it is December 31st or April, or whatever. I'll be happy to spend time with my boyfriend and that's it. Okay? Stop beating yourself up about it.' your voice got warmer. He leaned forward, resting his head on your stomach and wrapping his arms around your waist to bring you close.
'Still. Im sorry that I keep disappointing you. You deserve better.' the last sentence made you snap so you pushed him back slightly, making him look up at you.
'Oi, don't say shit like that. It's not true.' the little oi clearly being his Aussie influence.
'You are better. You're the best. Don't ever say that, because it's not true. I love you.' you cradled his face in your hands. His big brown eyes looking up at you so sweetly.
'Am I though?' he said sadly. Always doubting himself, you sighed internally.
'Yes you are.' you planted a kiss on his lips, trying to lighten up the mood 'Besides, you know that I'm too honest. If you were being shitty to me I'd tell you. Well, I'd tell your friends first and then you. Just to add that bit of embarrassment.' you shrinked your eyes jokingly, finally getting a chuckle out of him.
That made you smile in return, as you kept caressing his cheeks with your thumbs. He looked up at you again, shaking his head slightly with a small smile on his face. 'What?' you said cutely.
'I love you so much. I wonder what did I do to deserve you.' you smiled sweetly at him before switching again, and clicking your tongue.
'Getting sappy here, Christopher' you released his face, about to turn around to go get your phone, just to shoot a quick message to Hyunjin reassuring that the situation was handled, but chan grabbed your hand making you turn around.
He laughed, smirking up at you slightly. 'Hey, come back here' you chuckled, letting yourself be dragged back. You were now standing in between his legs, him still sitting on his big desk chair.
'You need something?' you joked. 'Just my girl. Right here. Close to me.' your smile turned into a smirk, as your hands started to wander on his shoulders.
'I am close.' his hands came up to your waist then down to your hips, pushing you more into him, your faces close.
'Closer' you carefully straddled him, your arms around his neck.
'Enough?' he chuckled faintly, his lips grazing your neck and then whispering 'Never' into your ear, sending shivers down your spine.
'Greedy boy' you teased 'I can get even more greedy. Will you let me?' he looked back at you, the slightest hint of humor in his voice, but his eyes were telling a different story.
'Yes' you respondeded without a doubt. 'Go ahead. Do whatever you want. I know you need it.' at that point he crashed his lips to yours, immediately starting a passionate kiss. Your hands gripped his broad shoulders as his hands pressed your hips down to his crotch.
At that point your dress had already pooled around your hips, so the only thing separating you two were your pantyhose and panties, aside from his own pants. As you continued kissing and grinding, he got hard quite quickly.
One of his hands were holding you close to him while the other wandered under the dress and then straight to the hem of the pantyhose and the panties.
'Off' he mumbled in between kisses, so you carefully stood up, a little dazed from the heat of the moment and quickly discarded them both at the same time. Chan also got up to get rid of his own pants and underwear, and then reprised to kiss you.
He tried to lead you to the bed, but you stopped him 'No, I want to ride you there' you slowly pushed him back on the chair, his gaze not leaving you for a single moment.
'Fuck baby' he cursed, before widening his eyes for a moment 'Wait let me close the door-' you pushed him back again, shooting him a smirk.
'Relax, baby. Hold on' you went to close the door, turning the lock for safety, even though you knew that most likely none of the members would've stepped back into the house unless you told them to.
'Need you so bad, c'mere' he grabbed your hand, almost making you stumble into him. You chuckled, straddling him again. He wetted his fingers slightly with some spit before his hand went straight to stroke your slit. You moaned into his neck, as you kept your knees raised at his sides to allow him access.
'So wet already' he teased, making you groan and hump his hand more.
'You made me go out in the cold and interrupt a good movie. Now get to work, Christoper.' you complained, erupting a chuckle from him.
'Okay, okay.' he surrendered, I'll warm you back up real quick, baby girl' at that point he lined up his hard cock with your pussy, gathering some wetness before helping you sink down on him. You both moaned deeply, mumbling some curses.
'Fuck, Channie...so big' he hummed while kissing your neck as his hands supported the back and forth movement of your hips. You started kissing as your hips kept on going faster, then slower again, then going in circles.
After a while though, Chan seemed to notice you trying to get more stimulation to your slit, so he decided to take matter in his own hands.
'Wait, baby, hold on' he interrupted the kiss and grabbed the hem of your dress, taking it off of you and throwing it on the carpet nearby. The fact that you weren't wearing a bra was a pleseant surprise.
'No bra? Naughty girl' he smirked, making you laugh faintly. He attached his mouth to one of your nipples, sucking and licking, while he played with the other with his pointer and thumb.
'Ah-' you moaned as he grazed the nipple with his teeth lightly, 'Wait, you too' you said, this time being you to take his hoodie off. In the meantime your pussy kept grinding on his dick, a bit more lazily since your knees were kinda starting to ache a bit.
Chan seemed to remember what he wanted to do before getting distracted by your tits, so he stopped once again 'Turn around baby. Want to touch you properly' he said sweetly as he helped you change positions.
You were now sitting with your back pressed to his chest, one of his hands grabbing your breast and the other working on your clit. He was making you feel so good that your mind was starting to get a little fuzzy, your hips grinding on his cock and his fingers mindlessly.
'Yeah, just like that. So good for me, baby' he whispered into your ear, his nose pressed to the side of your head, 'Such a good fuckig girl for me' he kissed your hair, your head, your neck.
'C-Chan, baby, m' close' you whined, one of your hands covering his one on your breast, while the other was between his hair desperately holding on for dear life.
'I know baby, I know' he sped up, pounding you so quick and deep that you were seeing stars, 'Come for me, c'mon. So beautiful' he groaned.
'My beautiful, patient, amazing girl' his fingers applying some more pressure, 'Really don't deserve you' the last phrase so quiet that your fucked out mind almost didn't catch it. Almost.
'C-chan, oh my god' your back arched, moaning out his name as you came. His rythm gradually slowed down, but his thrusts were still sharp and deep.
'Come inside me, baby. Wanna feel you, need to feel you, please' you pleaded, grabbing his jaw to kiss him. He moaned into your mouth, and after a few more sharp thrusts, you felt him coming inside you.
'Yes, that's it, so good' you cooed, giving little kisses on his mouth 'Love you so much' you whispered. He smiled slightly in the kiss, hugging you tight. You moved around, getting more comfortable but still hugging each other tight and cuddling. You were left in a comfortable silence for a while.
'I heard that, you know.' you said softly, his gaze pointing down at you as his fingers still delicately caressed your arm.
'What do you mean?' he asked. You didn't look at him, concentrating on playing with his hands.
'You know exactly what I mean. Stop saying that. I mean it. I love you, and I know that you love me. There must be a reason why we're together and we work. So stop getting into your own head' your eyes locking with his. 'Promise?'
He chewed on his plump lip, definitely feeling guilty that he got scolded yet again. Naked, on his bedroom chair, after some mind blowing sex and a whole lot of feelings. In the end he sighed, nodding and planting a longing kiss on your head.
'Good. Now get me a blanket or something, I'm fucking freezing.' he laughed, bumping his head gently to yours jokingly. Then he helped you get off him and opened one of the closet's drawers and grabbed a fuzzy blanket.
'Wait for me a second, I'll get something to clean up.' he told you as he quickly put his hoodie and pants back on. You nodded as he exited the bedroom. Wrapped up in the blanket, you searched for your phone in your bag. When you found it you quickly dialed Hyunjin's number, who picked up after just a couple of rings.
'Hello?' you could hear some noise in the background, so you assumed that they were maybe in a bar or something.
'Everything's fine.' you said, sitting down to wait for Chan to come back.
'Oh, I'm glad. I knew you would make him reason' just as he said that, you clearly heard Jisung yelling 'Are you done fucking or what' with some laugh erupting.
'Oh my Gosh' you replied, embarassed while you pinched the bridge of your nose with your fingers.
'Shit! Yn, I'm so sorry about that. This motherfucker is just jealous you're getting some' he chuckled, as you heard Jisung saying something along the lines of 'Fuck you'.
'Hyunjin!' you scolded him, not being able to not laugh. They laughed.
'Sorry, sorry. We'll be back in an hour or so, bye!' and he hung up.
'You know, I would've betted on Jisung, because he's a nosy fucker.' you got startled by Chan's voice. He closed the door behind him again and scrunched down in front of you, gently helping you clean up with a warm damp towel.
'But he only talks behind people's back. Should've known it was Hyune.' he sighed. You smiled, messing with his hair.
'C'mon. You should be thankful. You started off wanting to punch a hole in the wall and now look at you'. you teased. He smirked, getting up and discarding the towel in the dirty clothes basket.
'Yeah, the power of pussy I guess' your mouth went slack, as you threw at him your previously discarded panties. He caught them, laughing hard at your outraged reaction.
'Oh so that's what I am to you, uh? Good to know, Christopher' you feigned annoyance and dramatically crossed your legs, looking away from him.
'I'm sorry, I'm sorry' he laughed, coming close to grab your had in between his hands and kissing you. 'You know It's not true. Well, not only-' you gasped in shock again as he threw his head back laughing.
'You little-'
♡︎.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.
That's it folks! I know it was quite a rollercoaster, but hopefully decent nonetheless. Until next time <3
#silentcryracha#stray kids bang chan#bang chan x reader#bang chan#skz scenarios#bang chan smut#bang chan scenarios#bang chan fanfic#bang chan x you#chan x reader#chan smut#chan skz#skz imagines#stray kids x you#stray kids x reader#stray kids smut#stray kids angst#stray kids fluff
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|𝐋𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐥𝐞 𝐒𝐥𝐮𝐭𝐬 (𝐦𝐯𝟏, 𝐜𝐥𝟏𝟔)
Dom!Max x Sub!Charles x Sub!fem reader
Summary: Charles wants to break the rules but she’s not sure. They both get punished for touching each other without permission
Warnings: SMUT! Dom/subs situation, punishment, oral (fem rec), threesome, praising, degrading, unprotected sex (girl don’t even thing about it), pet names (good boy/girl, princess, baby boy, my love etc), bondage, sex toys, dirty talk, anal, subspace, overstimulation, and way more that I might have missed
Notes: This was a request but I did something completely stupid. So if you’re the one who requested this here it is again I’m sorry for not tagging you. Hope you like it!
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“Please mon amour he won’t find out, just need your help baby” Charles begged me while rubbing his hard cock through his pants. He’s been begging me for about 30 minutes wanting to be inside me since max wasn’t there to help him. “But Maxie is gonna get mad don’t want to get punished cha” I whimpered to him while squeezing my thighs as he rubs them both with his hands.
“He won’t punish us, please baby need your pussy” he whimpered to me holding my hips slowly moving them to my clothed pussy. I whined feeling his hands over my wet pussy making me grind on his hand needy. “See you want it to please we just have to be quick” he explained to me making me give in to the pleasure.
“Promise that Maxie won’t get mad” I asked him innocently not knowing if he was telling the truth or not. “I promise he won’t get mad” he insisted making me nod and let him touch me. Once I gave him the nod he started taking off my clothes one by one. Once he was done taking off my clothes he started kissing me making me whimper against him. He took off his shirt and pants leaving him in his underwear. He rubbed my wet folds making me squeal from the sudden pleasure taking over my body.
“Need your cock cha please” I begged him slowly going into that fuzzy mind set I always get when I’m with him or max. Once he heard me beg for his length he slowly takes off his underwear showing me his cock leaking with pre-cum at the angry red tip. He runs his tip against my throbbing clit making me whimper more for him pleading for him to push Inside me. He finally pushed himself inside me making us both moan out in unison. He starts thrusting picking up a pace that we both liked. He was moaning and whimpering feeling my tight wet walls around his leaky cock.
“You feel so good. M’not gonna last. Your so tight” he whimpered to me making my walls clench around him. We were so into each other we didn’t hear the door open or close. He was thrusting harder and harder making me scream out his name. Max heard everything and he was pissed. He knew what we were doing. So he walked to our room opening the door and watching Charles plow his cock into my soaking cunt. I opened my eyes to see Charles but instead I see an angry max behind him.
“Cha stop it” I whined to him pushing his chest so he stop thrusting into me. “Maxie is-“ I say before getting cut off my Charles. “Maxie is not gonna know please baby I’m so close” he whined thrusting faster making me yelp out when I feel his tip brush my g-spot.
“Oh so I’m not gonna know” Max said loudly behind him making his cock slip out so he can turn around. Max was pissed. He had a raging hard on but his body spoke different. “Was gone for an hour and you couldn’t wait for me Charles. But not only you couldn’t wait you had to bring our good girl into this” he growled to Charles slowly walking over to the naked man.
“M’sorry, w-was hurting a-and you said I couldn’t touch myself anymore” he stuttered scared knowing he was gonna get punished for his actions. “Aww the slut is sorry. What are you sorry for, I’m surprised you didn’t have her fuck you, can never go a day without being full can you” Max shouted before grabbing Charles cock and squeezing it. That made Charles whimpered and it made me gasp from the sight in front of me. “Baby girl” Max called out to me.
“Yes daddy” I say my voice sounding so little compared to his. “Who started it” he asked wanting to know an answer knowing I was gonna tell the truth. “I did daddy” I lied to him not wanting Charles to get punished badly.
“Are you lying to me princess, because you know daddy doesn’t like liars” he warned me giving me his famous stern look, the same look he gives us when we do something we should have. I gulped slight still wanting to protect Charles. “Yes daddy I know, I started it asked cha to fill me up because I missed you” I whimpered to him not making eye contact with his dark lustful eyes.
“See now I know you’re lying, because when you lie you don’t look at me. So why are you lying to me baby girl. What happened to my good girl, Charles is my brat but you you’re my angel” he said disappointed that I was lying to him to protect Charles. “Wanted to protect cha don’t want him to get punished” I cried to him softly finally looking up at him showing him the sad look on my face.
“You hear that Charles she wanted to protect. My sweet angel wanted to protect my naughty brat. What do you say Charles what do you say to our baby girl” Max grumbled in his deep dominant voice that makes us straight up instantly. “Thank you angel” Charles whimpered to me still feeling Maxes hand around his throbbing cock.
“Princess would you do daddy a favor” he mumbled to me, making full eye contact. “Can you go get me the hand cuffs and the cock ring for brat” he grunted to me in his deep voice making me nod and Charles whimpered knowing exactly what cock ring he was asking for. The cock ring that vibrates around his shaft but doesn’t let him cum. I quickly get up going into the closet grabbing the things he wanted before putting them on the bed.
“And you go lay on the bed. Now” he demanded Charles before Charles goes and scurry’s off to the spot where he always gets tied up to. “Your gonna watch me fucking out girls pretty pussy while your stuck. Do you understand” he growled to Charles while cuffing his wrist around our headboard, all Charles can do is nod whimpering as Max slips the cock ring on him.
Max slaps his thigh and grabs his face. “You know the rules. We use our words got it” he growled to him animalistic tone making Charles whine softly. “Yes daddy I understand” Charles moaned softly to him bucking his hips up. “Good boy” Max mumbled before turning on the cock ring which vibrated at the bottom of his shaft. Charles yelps from the sudden vibration making him tug on the hand cuffs that had thick fur on them so it doesn’t hurt our wrist.
“Angel what’s your color” Max questioned rubbing my cheek with his thumb making me look up with him with such pure eyes. “Green daddy” I whispered to him as Charles moans and whines in the background. “Charles what’s your color” Max asked him watching Charles buck his hips and tremble in pure pleasure. “G-green” he squealed feeling his first orgasm but not being able to let it out due to the cock ring.
“Lay down baby, daddy’s gonna taste this pussy okay” he told me before laying me down as Charles watches my every move. Max slowly runs his fingers through my folds making me gasped loudly from sensitivity. “Aww is my princesses pussy sensitive” he teased circling my clit with his thumb. All I could do was whine out making him slap my clit hard. I yelped out before soft tears run down my face. “Do I need to remind you both the rules. You both speak with words do you understand” he said pissed at the both of us. “Yes daddy” we say in unison.
“My good little sluts, but you your not a slut angel you can go a day without being filled, but you Charles always need your tight hole filled with daddy’s cock huh” Max taunted watching the younger boy cry out from the pure overstimulation. “Y-yes, always need your c-cock” Charles cried out throwing his head back in pleasure and pain.
“Imagine what all your friends would say if they saw you like this. Showing them how much of a slut you are for me. How much you begged to get filled up by my cock” he taunted his while circling Charles sensitive nipple with his finger. “Now watch me eat our girls pussy okay” he says before leaning down to my pussy spreading it slight to see my clit. He kitten licks my clit softly making me gasp from the sudden sensation. Before I know it he’s feasting on my pussy like he was starving. Licking, sucking, nipping. Everything that made me feel rush of pleasure. I moaned out his name while pulling his hair.
“Nu uh don’t moan mine name moan his name” he mumbled against my pussy wanting me to moan Charles name while he eats my cunt. So I do what he says. “Charlie feels s-so good” I cried out while looking at Charles seeing him cry out from not being able to cum. All he can do was whimper and cry not being able to touch me at all. I feel max suck on my clit harshly making my thighs tremble around his head. “D-da-daddy too much” I squealed feeling him suck my sensitive clit.
But he doesn’t stop all he does is abuse my clit knowing that will make me cum faster. I feel the familiar knot in my stomach about to snap. “Daddy need to cum. Can I please cum” I begged for permission to release the knot. All he did was hum a yes in my trembling pussy making me cum all over his face with a scream. He cleaned me up with his tongue dragging out my orgasm. Once I finally cum down from my high, I’m deeper into the fuzzy headspace and he knows it.
“Maxie m-may I please cum” Charles begged with dried tears on his cheek. All max did was chuckle at him taking off the cock ring and un cuffing him. “Took your punishment so good my good boy. Go grab me the lube and I’ll fuck you while our angel rides your pretty cock okay” he said softly the softest he’s talked to Charles today. Charles nod softly slowly getting into that headspace as well kissing max and me softly. He got up and grabbed the lube giving it to max.
Max slowly puts lube on his fingers and Charles hole to prep him making the trembling boy gasp from the cold sensation. Max rubbed the rim of his hole before slowly sticking a finger in him. Charles let out a loud moan miss the feeling of being full. Max slowly starts to scissor another finger into him to stretch out the ring of muscle. Max pushed his finger deeper curling it into Charles pressing the tip of his fingers into Charles prostate making Charles cry out.
“I think your stretched out enough baby boy” Max says to the whimpered boy before putting lube onto his cock. Then max looked at me “ready princess” he asked me before slipping his cock into Charles tight hole making them both groan. I slowly move closer to Charles cock sliding my pussy back onto it for the second time that night. “S-so full” Charles gasped out feeling Maxes cock deep inside him. While I fuck my pussy onto Charles cock making him feel extra pleasure. Me and Max move at the same pace making us all moan out. The room was filled with pornographic moans from the all of us letting the pleasure take over our body’s.
“M-maxie gonna cum” Charles yelled out loudly as I go faster on his cock. “Me too” I cried out feeling his tip hit nothing but my g-spot. “Come on my sluts, cum for me. Cum for daddy” Max growled before pounding into Charles hole hitting his prostate over and over again making Charles let his warm seed in me. That triggered my orgasm, I tighten my already tight walls around him making me cum all over his cock. Once I tightened he squeezed his hole around max for the overstimulation. Max moans loudly cumming in Charles before panting and slipping out softly making Charles whine from the lack of fullness.
Max gets up and go gets a wet towel to clean us up with me and Charles both in the deep fuzzy mind set cuddling together. Max comes back and cleans up the cum out of mine and Charles hole. He threw the towel on the floor bringing us into his lap as we babbled nonsense to him. “Did so good, my good girl and good boy. Made daddy so proud” he praised us running his fingers through our hair.
“Come back to me daddy doesn’t want you to get sick. Come back to me” he said not wanting us to get sub drop again like we did last time. We slowly come back to him our babbling becoming less and less. Once we finally came back we cuddled deeper into him slowly falling asleep in my arms. “I love you so much” he whispered to us both before we fall asleep feeling same.
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Notes: that was very intense. Again the request are open please leave me some so I can post for you guys. This was a request I’m sorry I couldn’t tag you I’m still new at this. But anyways I really hope you guys liked this!
#charles leclerc#charles leclerc smut#charles leclerc imagine#charles leclerc x reader#f1 fanfic#f1 smut#max verstappen blurb#max verstappen x you#max verstappen smut#max x charles x reader#dom!max verstappen#sub!charles leclerc#sub!reader
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🩵𝑺𝒂𝒎'𝒔 𝑮𝒊𝒓𝒍🩵
Sam Winchester x Fem!reader
Warnings: NSFT, MDNI, Crushing, friends to lovers, pet names, Sexual tension, Mellow sexual thoughts, Size kink, p in v, nipple play, multiple rounds, oral sex, praise kink, aftercare
Mentions: She/her reader pronouns, Reader wears a skirt, Reader is implied to be shorter than Sam, Imagining early seasons Sam, Dean is present
"In a world of boys, he's a gentleman"
AN: uhh I know I died for like a month but supernatural brain rot is incoming. Sam girl for life <3 anyhow, happy holidays loves. This is so self-indulging, sorry babes.
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Sam Winchester is an awkward man. He's so respectful he doesn't know what to do with himself sometimes. But don't mistake his sweet attitude for a lack of attraction.
When you bend over to pick his book up off the floor for him, he notices your skirt sliding up your thighs. He quickly looks away as he runs a hand through the back of his messy brown hair.
Sam always opens the door of the Impala for you when you join him and Dean on road trips. He notices the way you let your hand brush over his arm as you help yourself into the car. Dean just lets out a small laugh as he climbs into the driver's seat.
Sam watches you saunter around the motel room in his shirt. Under the claim that 'it's just more comfortable'. He loves the way your figure is swallowed up by his larger clothes.
Sometimes it was almost degrading how respectful he was. In truth, you were trying to get his attention. To catch him peaking under your skirt, getting hard from seeing you in his shirt, or him finally being pushed over the edge by your 'discreet' affectionate touches. You swore you were gonna have to climb in his lap and say "fuck me" for him to actually do it.
In truth, Sam wasn't oblivious to what you wanted. Rather he was too kind to give it to you. He thought you were so precious that he needed to deny you. Sleeping with you would be too personal, too intimate and he wouldn't be able to let go of you after.
Dean let out a small laugh, Sam and him were alone in the hotel room while you went to go get dinner for the three. "What, Dean?" Sam asked in his partially sassy attitude as he read through his book. "Nothing nothing...it's just funny watching her pawn for you. Think you might be hurtin' her feelings." Dean smirked as he looked over at his little brother. Sam sighed in response, knowing he could only be talking about you. "I'm not that stupid, I know what she wants...I just..." he ran a hand through his hair "I don't think I should".
"Sammy" Dean inquires "Look, she knows what we do. She hasn't gone running yet and she's perfectly human, there's nothing dangerous about that girl" he chuckles. "I know you're afraid because of what happened but...I think this might be something worth risking".
Sam let Dean's words simmer in his thoughts all night. For once he might actually agree with his older brother.
The next night you and Sam were alone. You finally spilled, being brutally honest. Sam watched with a bit of shock as you admitted how you'd be pawning for him. All your actions had a purpose and how bad you wanted to be his girlfriend. You almost wanted to cry with how emotionally overwhelmed this made you trying to explain yourself.
"Lovely, I'm sorry..." Sam stands as he cups your cheek and tilts your head up to meet his gaze. "I know you want me but I was being selfish because I know if I...indulge myself in you, I won't be able to let you go ever again." he explained, his voice was so gentle and his eyes reminded you of a puppy with the way he looked at you.
"Maybe...I'm a little selfish too" you chime in "I just...I wanna be yours so bad that I don't really care what happens".
Those words alone tumbled the tension between both of you over the edge. Sam's kisses were soft then heated and needy. He had you pushed against the motel wall while both of you discarded your clothes. His larger figure covered you as he kissed you desperately. His hands engulfed your hips as he gripped them.
Once you two were on the bed, his hands fondled your breasts, teasing your nipples between his fingers. His chest pressed into your back as he kissed along your neck. You reached back to tangle a hand into his hair.
Sam was so sweet but he was a fucking god in bed. He knew exactly where to kiss, fondle, and tease. Nothing but deeply slurred words of "How does that feel?", "You okay?", "Taking me so well, lovely", and "Good girl...". You went three rounds with him...
He rubbed your clit and toyed with your nipples, leaving kisses and sucking up your neck. You came on his fingers, feeling him stretch you open. You wanted to watch his strong hands fuck into you so bad.
He nestled himself between your thighs. His tongue lapping up your first orgasm. You watched as you tugged on his hair, noticing the dominant look in his eyes. His hands gripping your thighs to keep them spread as you squirmed beneath him. His lips wrapped around your clit and sucked on it until he fucked his tongue inside you while you came again.
Then finally he fills you with his cock, only after making sure you were okay. He had you stuffed to the brim, grunts and moans leaving him with each thrust. He pressed his forehead against yours as he kissed your cervix with the tip of his dick.
When you came for a third time, he let you ride your high until he pulled out and finished on your stomach. A gentleman as always, not stuffing you with his cum on the first night. Even if you wouldn't have minded.
Sam carefully cleaned you up in the bath. Warm water envelops you both. He placed a soft kiss on your shoulder and gently rubbed your side as he cleaned you up. His actions are no longer lustful, this was just affectionate. "Did you enjoy yourself? Wasn't too much?" he asked softly, his expression back to looking like a puppy. "I'm fine, Sammy. It was perfect..." You smiled and kissed him softly.
#fanfic writer#my writing#reader insert#fem reader#supernatural#supernatural fanfiction#sam winchester#sammy winchester#supernatural x reader#sam winchester x reader#sam winchester x you#sam winchester fanfiction#sam winchester smut#headcanons#supernatural fandom#aftercare#praise#mentions dean winchester#dean winchester#the winchester brothers#sam is a gentleman#gentleman#my new hyperfixation
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New Romantics
Clarisse La Rue x Fem!AphroditeCabin!Reader
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sypnosis: you and clarisse meet during a capture the flag game, In A Good Way prequel!!
a/n: IM SO GLAD EVERYONE LIKES MY CLARISSE FIC ☹️☹️☹️☹️ i have so many planned but i just wanted to say thank you all sm!!!! this one is so silly….. i hope you all enjoy!!
LMK IF YOU WANNA BE ON MY CLARISSE TAGLIST!!!!!!
New Romantics - Taylor Swift
warnings: violence, swearing, mentions of death and blood, insane clarisse bc she gets a LITTLE too into capture the flag, protective clarisse obvi i will never write a fic without her showing up, clarisse makes me SWOON if you couldn’t tell, not proofread we get turned into pine trees like thalia over here, tell me if i missed anything!!
—-
Your legs ache. You’ve been at Camp Half Blood all your life, but you just spent the entire school year doing absolutely nothing. It was an adjustment. You’re already being forced into the horrible tradition of capture the flag. You met up with your favorite and best friends Jackie and Tyla at the beginning of summer, and you’ve all been attached to the hip ever since.
The three of you thought you could escape to a random part of the woods and skip out.
It’s not like you were lazy, or couldn’t hold your own in a fight- but you had just taken turns doing each others nails yesterday, and it would be such a shame to see them all smudged and broken.
You were on the red team, so you watched as the incomparable Clarisse La Rue ran around instructing everyone what to do- completely skipping past the three of you. Jackie took it to heart, complaining about how she had lasted two minutes sparring with Clarisse once, and she had no right to label all Aphrodite kids as weak and useless.
You remember the night you finally made it to the crest of camp, blood staining your hands, your satyr protector dead on the ground behind you as some monster you didn’t know the name of chased after you.
The three of you thought maybe a nice walk at the edge of the woods would be nice, when suddenly a squadron of the blue team came running out trying to catch you as prisoners. It wasn’t a rule of the game, but it was generally expected that that the winner had more prisoners, or else the victory just didn’t seem right.
The blue team saw Aphrodite kids as easy targets to pick off.
This felt all too familiar to that stormy light, your pounding heart, looking around as everything crashed around you. One of them even jumped down from the freaking trees, and you screamed at the top of your lungs as all three of you sprinted off into different directions.
There was only one chasing behind you, a Hermes kid you didn’t know the name of, but he was fast on your tail.
Just as you had reached the crest of the hill, you screeched at the top of your lungs as you saw four figures in front of you. A satyr. Two girls. One boy.
“Not another one,” the stayr moaned, before beckoning you towards them. You stayed frozen in place. The monster was big and slow, but you could hear it approach.
The boy held out his hand.
“I promise,” he breathed, locking eyes with the smaller girl, maybe a year or two younger than you, before looking up at the older girl. You could tell she was battle hardened, she was ready to win this. “We’ll all make it to camp.”
Both monsters chasing you let out ear-piercing roars, and you quickly slapped your hand into his and sprinted away.
Thalia, you would later learn her name, didn’t survive that night. But you did. Luke did. Annabeth did.
The three of you will forever be bonded by that, even if you’re on different teams in capture the flag. Gods, you wish it was Luke chasing you right now- but it’s not.
You’ve forgotten everything about swords and fighting in exchange for the Russian Revolution and the Periodic Table. You hate school even more in this moment.
He reaches out towards you and you’re distracted by his hand touching your shoulder, heart pounding in your ears, and you trip right over a root and stumble before falling to the ground.
You faintly see the flash of bronze armor pass you, then you suddenly hear a body slam into the ground. You whip around, only to find a girl wearing a red-tipped helmet on top of the boy chasing you.
“Clarisse!” she shouts. “I got him!”
You breathe heavily, watching at the boy yells and tries to buck her off of him, but you faintly remember seeing her constantly around Clarisse. She must be another Ares kid, which means there’s no way she’s letting this Hermes kid gets away.
Clarisse saunters out of the woods on your left, looking between you and the boy on the ground.
You sit up on your hands, watching it all play out, not able to catch your breath.
She smiles, slow, like a cheshire cat.
Gods, why does she have to look like that? Why does she have to smile like that? Why does she have to make you feel this way?
Why doesn’t she just drop the spear and make out with you?
“So, this is the dummy who thinks it’s funny to chase around Aphrodite kids,” she says, slowing walking turns him. The girl holds up his head so he has to look at Clarisse. She places the end of her spear into the dirt. She leans down in front of him. “Well, I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but the Aphrodite cabin is on the red team, right? Right?”
The girl tugs his head up and he winces, but nods.
“And who captains the red team? Cause I think it’s me, isn’t it?”
He’s learned his lesson. He nods quickly, now.
“I’m feeling nice today. Why don’t you apologize to the pretty girl, and maybe I won’t kill you.”
His eyes lock with yours. He says nothing.
“I said apologize, dumbass.”
He glares at Clarisse.
“You’re fucking insane.”
She laughs a bit. “It’s capture the flag, Zander, why are you not getting a little crazy? Chasing after Aphrodite kids is just embarrassing, honestly.”
“Fine,” he spits. “Fucking fine. I’m sorry.”
“Was that so hard?” she coos. She nods, and the girl let’s him go.
Holy Hades if that wasn’t the hottest thing you’ve ever seen.
He runs straight off into the woods after a moment, when he realizes they’re not gonna chase after him, not now at least.
The other girl turns to you. “You ok?”
“Yeah, yeah,” you dust off your knees. “There’s more of them by the edge, just so you know. Just north of the river.”
The girl smiles. “Gods, yes. Fuckin’ love destroying the Hermes cabin.”
Clarisse turns to you. She tilts her head to the side, watching you breath heavily on the ground. She sticks out your hand. Your grab it quick, scared she might pull away, and her hand is so warm and fits perfectly with yours. She pulls you up and you dust off your knees.
The other girl takes off running, following the boy, yelling for Clarisse to hurry up.
She smiles a bit, and you swear to Zeus her cheeks are a little flushed, you swear she looks at your lips for a second.
She brushes her thumb across her cheek.
“You’ve got some dirt on your face, gorgeous.”
She runs off before you can say anything, electrical spear crackling to life.
Oh, you fucking love capture the flag.
—-
clarisse “you’ve got some dirt on your face, gorgeous” la rue the woman you are
—-
#clarisse la rue#clarisse la rue x reader#clarisse la rue x y/n#clarisse la rue x you#pjo tv show#pjo x reader
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Cherry Pie. aka - Cherry, Part Three.
There are certain things in life that can’t be denied. You’re starting to think maybe you and Steve are one of them.
pairing - bestfriend!steve harrington x female reader
warnings - smut. cursing.
word count - 2.6k
authors note - part three has arrived!! thanks for your patience, angels. thank you for all your continued enthusiasm and support for this series. I love them and I love you <3 as always, please reblog if you enjoyed!! it’s the only way to circulate my fics <3
masterlist. inbox. series masterlist.
“The prettiest girl in the world just walked in.”
“Your mom?”
“Funny, Harrington. Try again.”
“My Cherry?”
Robin smiles knowingly, nodding her head. Not only did Steve automatically associate you with the phrase prettiest girl in the world, but he called you his. Some days, she wished she could slap him square across the face in hopes of waking him up to what everyone else could see so clearly.
“Hi, you two. Working hard, or hardly working?”
You giggle, and the sound bounces off the metal shelves of the Family Video Store. Steve’s mesmerised, stood unmoving with a beaming grin on his face.
“I’m the first, Steve’s the second.”
The boy kicks his coworker in the shin, laughing when she pinches the bare skin of his arm in retaliation.
“Not true.”
Steve takes you in for a second, stuck still in his place. You’re wearing his favourite sundress, all patterned and pretty in front of him. Your lips are glossy and skin glowy, sneakers on your feet a perfect white. The perfect picture of a summer day.
“What are you doing here?” Robin asks, breaking him out of his haze. He snaps back to reality and throws an arm around your shoulders, kissing your temple sweetly.
“I was nearby anyway, thought I’d come in and see if you were busy. And I had to remind Steve to pick a movie for tonight.”
“We’re not watching a romcom.”
“We’re watching a romcom,” you say at the same time as Steve while Robin laughs.
“I better grab the new stock from the back. See you later,” she says, winking at the boy who still has you pulled tight into his side.
He rests his chin on the top of your head, inhaling the scent of your cherry conditioner and vanilla body wash. If Steve gets to heaven, he’s convinced this is what it’ll smell like.
“I finish here at 6, so I can come and get you, or you can wait for me at my place? Your choice, Cherry Baby.”
“I’ll wait for you. I was thinking I’d make us some dinner anyway, ready for when you get home.”
Home. Steve’s brain short circuits, a vision of a domestic life with a white picket fence flashing across his mind. He cups your face in his hands, pressing a kiss to your forehead.
“Sounds perfect,” he whispers.
You’re a little confused by all this sudden affection, but the last thing you’ll ever do is complain. If he wants to kiss you until you’re dizzy in the middle of this Family Video Store, then so be it.
“I should leave you to get on with stuff.”
“You could stay all day, if you wanted. We could make you wear the uniform and everything - no one would suspect a thing.”
You laugh, nudging his foot with yours.
“As tempting as that is, I have a little more shopping to do. And I have to get ingredients for later.”
You pick up your bag, swinging it over your shoulder as you look at him.
“See you later, Stevie.”
“See you later, Cherry Pie.”
You’re halfway out the door when he calls your name, head whipping around to face him.
“You’re so pretty. You know that, right?”
You look at your shoes, suddenly bashful at his boldness.
“You too, Stevie. Prettiest boy I know.”
You both go about the rest of your days floating on air, high on the giddy sweetness of it all.
✵ ✵ · ✵ * · ✵
Steve almost passes out when he unlocks his front door.
There’s candles lit and music playing softly, the kitchen alive with movement. Something smells delicious, and he can hear you humming along to a song he thinks he recognises as you chop and stir. He can picture it perfectly before he even enters the room, but the sight still knocks him off balance when he finally gets a good look at you.
“Honey, I’m home!”
You spin from your place at the stove to grin at him, petticoat trimmed apron tied around your waist to protect your dress.
“Darling! I’ve been waiting all day for you!”
You curtsy in mock greeting, which makes Steve laugh much harder than it should. He strides over and gathers you in his arms, squeezing you a little tighter than necessary.
“Steven, I saw you a few hours ago. You’re acting like you’ve just returned from war.”
“Forgive me for missing you,” he mumbles into your hair.
You sink into his embrace anyway, tangling your fingers into the back of his shirt and inhaling the familiar scent of it.
“Something smells really good.”
“It’s my famous cherry pie,” you grin, pulling back to look up at him. “Made it just for you.”
“You’re an angel,” he exclaims, spinning you around on the tiled floors. “An angel sent just for me.”
You try to ignore the way heat rises across your chest, his compliments warming your skin.
“Let me take it out of the oven, and then we’ll eat. You must be starving.”
He laughs, because you know for a fact he’s always hungry. You know everything about him. It should scare him, spook him, make him nervous. Instead he hums with the excitement of it, body alive with the anticipation of it all.
Steve changes out of his work clothes as you plate up dinner. He comes back downstairs to see you sat at the table waiting for him, all patient and pretty. He wonders momentarily what he’s done so right in life to be rewarded so greatly.
✵ ✵ · ✵ * · ✵
“So you totally brought me a romcom, right?”
Steve wants to deny it, wants to tell you that actually he stood his ground and stuck to his word. Instead, he says,
“Of course I did.”
And you laugh, all silvery and melodic, because you knew he’d cave. He can’t say no to you, even if he wanted to. You don’t use it to your advantage as often as you should. Steve wishes you did a little more.
“I’ll make popcorn if you get the video set up.”
Snacks made and movie ready, you settle in next to Steve on the couch. The two of you always follow the same routine - you sit separately, a fair distance between you, watching the movie with your hands to yourself. Then, slowly, you migrate towards each other, until you’re pressed together without an inch of space to be found.
The same thing happens tonight.
You end up being spooned by Steve, both of you laying across the couch cushions. Your back is pressed to his front, legs tangled together, his arm keeping you bracketed in to him. He’s hooked his chin over your shoulder to watch the TV, pressing kisses into the skin of your neck absentmindedly every now and again.
The film Steve picked is one you’ve seen before, but you’re not about to tell him that. Instead, your eyes slowly slip closed, the steady rhythm of the boys breathing lulling you into a sleepy haze. He traces patterns over the exposed skin of your stomach with his fingertips, chuckling slightly when you flinch as he brushes a ticklish spot.
Your hips roll back into his as you try to adjust your position, and Steve’s breath hitches in his throat. He inhales deeply, waiting for you to settle back down.
You don’t. You keep wriggling, clearly uncomfortable as you sink further into the couch cushions. Steve tries to help you, strong arm pulling you up and into him. You jut your hips once more, and he can’t help the small groan that leaves his lips.
Your eyes flutter open, adjusting to the flashing lights of the TV illuminating the room. The movie is still playing, but you know it’s almost finished. Steve’s arm is tight around your waist, his breathing heavy against your shoulder. You shift your hips to alleviate the pressure on your tangled legs when Steve sucks in a harsh breath, startling you.
He’s warm behind you. So warm. His chest is moving ragged, panting against your bare skin. His fingers grip your thigh tightly for a second, before letting it go and soothing over it.
Oh. Oh.
You’re wide awake, suddenly. Liquid heat spikes its way up your spine, all prickly and electric. You’re not sure what your next move is, but lust is clouding all five of your senses.
“Steve.”
“Cherry.”
“Steve.”
You try to say his name more firmly, but it just comes out as a whine. The sound shoots straight to Steve’s core, his hips bucking into your ass involuntarily.
“You okay?” he mumbles into your ear, grip on your thigh tightening. His fingertips dig into your skin, and you pray you’ll still be able to feel it tomorrow.
“Yeah,” you breathe, but it’s a lie. You’re not okay. You’re on fire, every nerve ending in your body alight with molten heat. You think you might be shaking with it, hoping Steve doesn’t notice.
His hand smooths up from your thigh to just under your breast, resting gently on your ribs. Your heart is fluttering like a hummingbirds wings, frantic and delicate. He can feel it through his fingertips.
“I love you, Cherry Baby.”
You lose your breath momentarily, reminding yourself how to inhale. He always does this, always catches you off guard by telling you he loves you in the moments you expect it the least. It always means more, in times like these. He could have said anything to you just then, but he chose I love you. You don’t know whether to laugh or cry or neither or both.
“I love you too,” you choke out. “So much.”
You grind your hips back into his, grinning when he groans all low and buttery. His hand glides up to cup your chest, squeezing gently as you arch into him.
“What do you want?” he asks slowly. “Tell me what you want, babe. I’ll give you anything. Need to hear you say it. Wanna hear you say the words.”
You let him ramble for a minute, trying to put your thoughts in order. You try as hard as you can, but all you can say is,
“You.”
Steve buries his nose into your hair, pressing a kiss into the space behind your ear gently.
“You’re killing me, baby.”
“Want you so badly, Steve. Please.”
The hand that’s on your chest dances down to your stomach, slipping underneath your sleep shorts. He traces his fingers over your underwear, moaning when he feels them completely soaked through.
“Shit.”
“Stevie.”
He strokes you gently, hips rutting into your back when yours jolt into his hand. Eventually, he pulls your underwear to the side, running his fingers through your wet heat before slipping two inside.
You keen instantly, back arching into him. His lips find home in the juncture between your neck and your shoulder, teeth biting down occasionally to try and stifle his desire. You move your hips in tandem with his rhythm, grinding down to try and find the right spot.
“Yeah, fuck, that’s it. Atta girl. Ride my fingers, sweetheart. Take what you need.”
His voice is like melted honey, all golden and warm. It’s making your bones turn to liquid, sinking further into the hold he still has on you with his other arm. Every inch of you is plastered to every inch of him, not a millimetre of space between you. You’ve never been so connected, both physically and emotionally. It’s like the tectonic plates are shifting, the very foundations of your lives changing right in front of your eyes.
Your chest is heaving, panting like you’ve just ran a marathon. All you can focus on is the white heat building in the pit of your stomach, volcanic and bright. When Steve crooks his fingers, you cry out, tumbling over the edge into a blind freefall with no parachute.
“That’s it, baby. Good girl.”
“You’re so good f’me. Doin’ so well.”
“Ride it out, pretty girl. Fuck.”
“Make a mess, there we go. Just like that.”
You’re not even registering his words, but you know that he’s praising you. He always is. He thinks you’re an angel, sent down from heaven to teach him what love is.
Steve ruts his hips into your back, groaning as he finishes. He can’t even find it in him to be embarrassed. The feeling of you writhing in his hold as you tightened around him was his undoing, whether he wanted it to be or not. He doesn’t mind.
You go boneless, head dropping back into his shoulder. He presses kisses onto your temple, your cheek, your neck, anywhere he can reach. You sigh in contentment, and Steve wishes he could bottle up the sound and take it like a shot of espresso every morning.
“You okay?”
You nod and then giggle, dopamine rushing through your blood. You’re almost lightheaded with it, floating on cloud nine.
“Steve?” you whisper.
“Yeah?”
You turn in his hold to finally face him, taking in the sight of his flushed cheeks and messy hair. You rest your sweaty forehead against his, panting into his mouth.
“Want it to be you.”
He pulls away slightly to get a good look at your face, eyes a little wide with shock.
“You mean…”
“Yeah. You don’t have to, if you don’t want to, but if you do, I guess I, um… there’s no one I trust more than you.”
“You know you can only lose your virginity once, baby.”
“I know. Which is exactly why it should be you.”
He grins at you, all giddy and love drunk, bumping your nose with his.
“You’re sure?”
“One hundred percent.”
Steve leans in to press his lips to yours, all slow and tender, kissing you as if you have all the time in the world.
Perhaps you do.
“Not tonight, obviously,” you murmur, chuckling under your breath. “Don’t think you could handle that.”
He scoffs, pulling back from you in disbelief.
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“You just came in your pants and I didn’t even touch you. Who even knows if we’ll make it to actual sex.”
Steve pinches your sides, wrapping his arms around you so you can’t escape. You laugh, trying to squirm out of his hold without luck.
“You’re gonna be eating your words, Cherry Baby.”
You shake your head, blinding smile still etched on your face.
“You know what I am gonna eat? My cherry pie. I’m starving.”
Steve groans at the thought of the dessert sitting on the counter in the kitchen. No one does a cherry pie quite like you.
“Hell yeah. Let’s do it. There’s ice cream in the freezer, too. That vanilla bean one you like.”
You peck his lips before standing up on shaky legs, wincing as you do it.
“You good?”
“I’m gonna need a new shirt. This one’s sticky.”
You look at him with a raised eyebrow and he can’t hold in his laughter, the sound of it booming around the quiet room.
“Shut the fuck up,” he jokes as he throws you over his shoulder. Despite your protests, he carries you up the stairs, smacking your ass a few times on the way for good measure.
When he puts you down, he cradles your face gently, looking into your eyes with sincerity.
“It’s me and you forever. You know that right?”
You know what he’s trying to say. I love you. You’re it for me. There never has been and never will be anyone else.
But neither of you are quite ready for those words. So instead, you say,
“I know. I’ve always known.”
And that’s enough, for now.
@psychicnerdcat @allcheesemelts @valerievortex @swiftsgirlfriend @steviespookie @betweenstarsandsatellites @mrsjoequinn @internallysalad @saucypeanuttt @empathyroad @niceskyler @spookysins @theoraekenslover @7minutes-tomidnight @xx-all-purpose-nerd-xx @livsters @diffrent-spokes @regular-joe-shmoe @ihatepeanutss
for some reason I didn't tag some people from part one in part two... no idea why. sorry!
#steve harrington fic#steve harrington x reader#steve harrington smut#steve harrington fluff#steve harrington imagine#steve harrington#steve harrington x reader smut#steve harrington x reader fluff#steve harrington x bestfriend!reader#bestfriend!steve harrington#bestfriend!steve harrington x reader#steve harrington x you#steve harrington x y/n#steve harrington x bestfriend reader#stranger things x reader#stranger things smut#stranger things fluff
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hey honey can i request a shy!reader x grumpy!eddie , maybe they’re pumpkin picking with friends & something angsty ensues but then fluffy & after they all go eat at the diner and get spooky themed orders 🤭
thanks for requesting lovie! — eddie gets grumpy on a fall outing with the gang (shy!reader, established relationship, hurt/comfort, 1.3k)
fictober (㇏(•̀ᵥᵥ•́)ノ)
Eddie’s a big ol’ grump at Eugene’s Pumpkin Patch, but he’s being really brave about it. He follows you like a puppy, visibly unamused about the whole thing but trying hard to be a good boyfriend despite his woe.
“Ah! Look at this one!” you gasp at the sight of a pumpkin, in a sea of bright orange pumpkins.
Swallowed whole by your sweater, you crouch in the tall grass and reach for the tiny round thing hidden in it. The runt pumpkin sits neatly in your palms. “It’s so wittle,” you singsong up at Eddie in a tiny, high-pitched voice.
He smiles despite himself, laughing even though he’s grumpy, ‘cause you’re the cutest thing he’s ever seen.
“I’m gonna get this one,” you announce affirmatively when you rise to full height again.
“You made me drive an hour out just to get the tiniest pumpkin they have?” Eddie asks, laughing still but with a subtle bite of annoyance.
You try to ignore it, though the weight of his aggravation makes you writhe. “But it’s cute…” you defend with a weak shrug. “And also, you have to get one, remember?”
You take a tentative step towards Eddie, standing chest to chest. He huffs and puts his hands in the pockets of his leather jacket. His chocolate eyes flit around the expansive farm, dull and unimpressed. “They all look the same, so… I don’t think it really matters.”
“It does matter!” you insist, girlish and quiet and stubborn. “You have to pick the one you like the most— that’s the whole point!”
“You’re telling me there’s an art to pumpkin picking?” the boy teases with a crooked grin, tilting his head to the side so his curls bunch at his shoulder.
Still clutching the tiniest pumpkin either of you have ever seen, you nod. “Yes. That’s exactly what I’m telling you.”
He scoffs again in a curt laugh. He looks around again, only to point to the one sitting by his feet.
“Alright… How about that one?”
“Eddie!”
“What?” he whines in the same pouty tone as you.
“Can you at least pretend you’re having fun?” you murmur, a bit sad you have to even ask.
You always spiral when he gets weird, secretly terrified that it’s all your fault. He doesn’t talk, so you overthink. Your brain gets mean, and you need Eddie to make you feel better — but he can’t because he’s weird. It’s unbearable. For both of you.
“It’s cold and rainy and Steve’s pants gave me a headache on the way over and I don’t feel good, okay? I’m sorry,” Eddie rambles with a pout, looking visibly pained about all of it.
Any excitement you had left leaves you like an ebbing tide. “Okay,” you mutter with a soft nod.
“I’m gonna go smoke,” the boy announces.
He smacks a fleeting kiss to your cheek before he goes but doesn’t bother to invite you to come with him. He doesn’t feel very deserving of your company right now, too selfish in his woe and painfully self-aware about it.
You stand in place while he walks back to the van, feeling utterly alone and unwanted.
“Where’d Eddie go?” Steve wonders when he walks up to you with Robin at his side.
They carry two pumpkins each, struggling with each of them because they’ve somehow managed to find the biggest ones on the whole farm. You figure they made a bet about it because everything’s a competition with them.
“Um… to smoke, I think,” you answer shyly, embarrassed to have been found alone for a reason you can’t name. “He just kinda… left.”
Robin scoffs. “I think he’s on his period,” she jokes with a gritty laugh.
“Yeah. He said my pants looked stupid before we left. I knew something was up.”
The brunette girl side-eyes the boy beside her. “I think he might’ve been right about that one, Stevie.”
You make a quiet exit when they begin to bicker back and forth. You duck through the bustling pumpkin patch and try not to trip in the tall grass on your way to Eddie’s van.
Your boots crunch over the gravel of the parking lot. You find him leaning against the trunk, blowing out smoke from his pink mouth, slouching like he’s weighed down by his own sadness.
“You okay, Eds?” you ask to announce your arrival.
His eyes widen when he realizes you’re there. He’d pretend to be fine if it didn’t take all the energy he had left. “No,” he answers honestly, then quickly corrects, “I mean— I am, but… I feel bad. I was acting like a dick…”
“Yeah,” you concur with a nod. “You were.”
He’s too shocked to hide it on his face. You’re never normally so confrontational. You’re usually too quiet for that, too soft. And you still are now, because you always are, but he feels like he deserves to see this sterner side of you.
“But it’s okay. I know you didn’t wanna come in the first place.”
He turns on his shoulder when you stand at his side, towering over you as he flicks the butt of his cigarette. “Yeah, but… I didn’t have to be such an asshole to you about it. I feel like I fuckin’ ruined this whole day, you know?”
“We all have our moments, Eds. It’s no big deal,” you assure with a weak shrug and a stronger smile. “We still have the whole afternoon left— you didn’t ruin anything. Doesn’t make me love you any less, either.”
Your words make him grin. Like, really grin — all wide and rosy and boyish. You make him smile like nothing’s ever hurt him. Like nothing’s ever been wrong in his life. Fuck, he’ll never get tired of hearing you say that.
“I love the shit outta you, you know that?” he mumbles but doesn’t give you a chance to answer. He tosses the cigarette to the ground and snuffs it out with his sneaker right before kissing you absolutely stupid.
He wraps his arms around your neck, smothering your face with his. No one’s ever been kissed as hard as he’s kissing you now. The realization makes you smile too wide to kiss him back.
He pulls away from you with a hearty smack. With pinker lips and chocolate eyes, he grins hopefully down at you. “So you’re not mad at me?” he wonders, gentle like a child.
“Yes,” you nod, playfully firm. “I’m very mad, actually.”
Eddie’s smile widens. He knows you’re joking and decides to lean into it. “What can I do then, huh?” he murmurs lowly to you, a knowing smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. “How can I make it up to you?”
He wants to kiss you again. He wants to get you in the back of his van in a vacant parking lot. He wants you to tell him to make you feel good and not to stop until you’re pushing him away.
You know all of this, ‘cause you can practically read his mind, so you decide to drive him crazier. “I want you…” you start in the same low tone, bordering on sultry.
Eddie’s already nodding.
You smile and continue.
“…To go pick your most favorite pumpkin in the whole patch, and then take me to Benny’s Burgers.”
Feeling slightly disappointed and utterly teased, Eddie searches the entire patch and finds the weirdest-shaped, wartiest pumpkin the earth has ever grown. He drives the gang to the diner after and sits you in his lap when all of you squeeze into one booth.
He shares his milkshake with you and lets you have the pickle slice that comes with his burger when you ask for it (‘cause everyone knows it’s the best part). It’s the purest form of love, if he has anything to say about it.
#published by bug#eddie munson x reader#stranger things x reader#eddie munson#eddie munson x you#eddie munson x y/n#stranger things#stranger things imagine#stranger things fanfic#stranger things fic#stranger things fanfiction#eddie munson fanfic#eddie munson fluff#eddie munson fic#eddie munson fanfiction#st drabbles#eddie spaghetti drabble#event: fictober!
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